LONDON'S 
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THE   CALL   OF   THE   WILD 


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with  a  ferocious  snarl,  he  bounded  straight  up 
into  the  blinding  day."  —  P.  22. 


THE  CALL  OF  THE  WILD 

BY 

JACK   LONDON 

EDITED,  WITH    INTRODUCTION    AND   NOTES,    BY 

THEODOEF.  .G.  .MJTCHILL 

PBINCIPA<L  OF  CA^ifilCA  ^GH  sOHOOL 


THE   MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1917 

All  rights  reserved 


COPTBIGHT,    1917, 

bt  the  macmillan  company. 


Set 


up  and  eltctro^^^?    I^^istfd  I^cwember,  1917. 


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Nor&jooli  ^rfBS 

J.  S,  Gushing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 

Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 


Introduction 


The  Geographical  Setting  of  "  The  Call  of  the 

Wild" vii 

The  Klondike ix 

Placer-Mining x 

The  Dog  in  Literature xi 

The  Dog  in  the  Northland  of  America  .        .    xiii 

The  Central  Idea  of  the  Book         ....    xvi 

Life  of  Jack  London xViii 

Jack  London's  Writings xxv 

Jack  London's  Place  as  a  Writer     .        .        .        xxviii 
Reference  Material xxx 


The  Call  of  the  Wild 

I.  Into  the  Primitive    . 

II.  The  Law  of  Club  and  Fang  . 

III.  The  Dominant  Primordial  Beast 

IV.  Who  has  Won  to  Mastership 
V.  The  Toil  of  Trace  and  Trail 

VI.  For  the  Love  of  a  Man 

VII.  The  Sounding  of  the  Call    . 

Notes 


^1 
16 
29 
49 
62 
83 
102 

125 


2033400 


INTRODUCTION 

The  Geographical  Setting  of  "The  CaU  of  the  Wild." 

—  To  get  a  broad  view  of  the  scene  of  this  story  turn 
to  the  map  of  Alaska.  Cutting  that  territory  about  in 
two  is  the  mighty  river  Yukon.  In  imagination  pass 
up  this  river  from  its  mouth.  Just  after  you  cross 
the  Canadian  boundary  line  you  will  reach  Dawson, 
the  geographical  centre  of  "  The  Call  of  the  Wild."  The 
region  lying  about  Dawson  and  mostly  east  of  the 
Yukon  is  the  famous  gold  region  known  as  the  Klondike. 
Letting  your  eye  wander  slowly  down  the  map  from 
Dawson  toward  the  southwest  you  will  catch  the  names 
of  the  Stewart,  Lewes,  and  Pelly  rivers.  Lake  Lebarge, 
White  Horse,  and  Skagway. 

Now  let  us  look  over  the  route  of  the  story  a  bit  more 
closely,  remembering  that  ours  is  the  Klondike  of  a 
score  of  years  ago,  not  the  railroad  and  steamboat 
Klondike  of  to-day.  Most  of  the  scene  of  this  story  is 
laid  between  Skagway,  the  ocean  end  of  the  Klondike 
trail,  and  Dawson,  the  commercial  centre  of  the  Yukon 
gold-fields  of  northwest  Canada.  Skagway  lies  well 
up  on  an  inlet  of  the  Pacific  called  Lyn  Canal.  Across 
the  Canal,  a  short  distance  to  the  northwest,  is  Dyea 

vii 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION 

Beach.  From  Skagway  the  trail  ^  mounted  northwest 
over  the  great  coastal  mountains,  by  way  of  Chilkoot 
Pass  or  the  more  famous  White  Pass.  Once  across  the 
mountains  travellers  moved  north,  in  winter  taking  ad- 
vantage of  the  more  level  surface  afforded  by  the  many 
frozen  lakes  and  rivers.  Thus  on  the  customary  route 
they  traversed  Lakes  Tagish,  Marsh,  and  Lebarge. 
Thence  they  passed  down  the  Lewes  River,  over  or 
around  the  Rink  Rapids,  to  the  Yukon  River  at  the 
point  of  its  formation  by  the  junction  of  the  Lewes 
and  Pelly  rivers.  Continuing  north  down  the  Yukon, 
past  the  mouth  of  White  River  and  of  Sixty  Mile  Creek, 
they  arrived  at  Dawson,  situated  in  latitude  60° 
north  and  about  fifty  miles  east  of  the  international 
boundary  line  between  Alaska  and  the  Dominion  of 
Canada.  The  journey  back  to  Skagway  lay  over  sub- 
stantially the  same  ground,  with  variations  according 
to  the  condition  of  weather  and  ground. 

TA\4ce  Buck,  the  dog  hero  of  this  tale,  made  the  trip 
from  Skagway  to  Dawson  and  back.  On  the  third, 
trip  north  he  came  under  the  protection  of  John  Thorn- 
ton, and  from  then  on  he  moved  with  Thornton  here 
and  there  on  prospecting  tours  with  Dawson  as  a  base. 
Buck's  wanderings  carried  him  up  Forty  Mile  Creek, 
forty  miles  down  the  Yukon  from  Dawson;    to  Circle 

^  In  the  maps  of  the  Century  Atlas  and  in  those  of  several  en- 
cyclopaedias the  Yukon  trail  is  plainly  indicated. 


INTB  OB  UCTION  IX 

City,  Alaska;  and  in  among  the  Tanana  hills,  which 
lie  in  Alaska  about  three  hundred  miles  west  of  Dawson. 
On  the  trip  that  led  to  the  finding  of  the  Lost  Mine  and 
to  Buck's  return  to  *'The  Wild,"  the  prospecting  party 
left  Dawson  and  sledded  south  seventy  miles  up  the 
Yukon  to  the  mouth  of  the  Stewart  River,  up  which 
they  moved  past  the  tributaries  Mayo  and  McQuestion 
to  the  head  waters.  Of  the  rest  of  their  journey  we 
know  only  that  their  route,  running  in  a  general  way 
to  the  northeast,  carried  them  over  the  Arctic  Circle. 
In  their  wanderings  they  seem  to  have  crossed  the 
Mackenzie  River  and  to  have  reached  the  shores  of 
Great  Bear  Lake  (see  page  104). 

The  Klondike.  —  The  existence  of  gold  in  Alaska 
was  known  in  the  nineteenth  century.  It  was  not, 
however,  before  the  late  nineties  of  the  last  century 
that  the  finding  of  rich  deposits  warranted  permanent 
settlements  such  as  those  at  Forty  Mile  Creek  and 
Circle  City.  Discoveries  of  still  greater  value  were  those 
made  in  the  Klondike.  The  Klondike  derives  its  name 
from  the  Klondike  River,  a  tributary  of  the  Yukon.  It 
was  on  Bonanza  Creek,  a  small  feeder  of  the  Klondike, 
that  indications  of  rich  deposits  of  gold  were  dis- 
covered on  August  16,  1896.  There  followed  a  stam- 
pede of  gold-seekers  to  the  region,  with  the  resulting 
development  of  the  territory.  It  was  this  discovery 
that  brought  into   existence  the  important   town  of 


X  INTRODUCTION 

Dawson  and  that  led  to  the  stealing  of  Buck  for  service 
as  a  sled-dog. 

Placer-Mining.  —  Broadly  speaking  gold  is  taken 
from  the  earth  by  quartz-mining  or  by  placer-mining. 
In  the  former  process  the  metal  is  separated  by  mechani- 
cal and  chemical  processes  from  the  rock  in  which  it 
occurs.  Placer-mining  seeks  to  recover  from  the 
pebbles  or  sand  in  which  it  is  found  the  *'free"  gold. 
This  occurs  in  sizes  from  nuggets  to  minute  pellets 
or  granular  dust.  Wet  placers  are  the  beds  of  existing 
streams  ;  dry  placers  are  ancient  river  beds  from  which 
the  water  has  disappeared.  The  gold-seeker,  the  pro- 
spector, tests  earth  for  free  gold  by  'Spanning."  A  cer- 
tain amount  of  dirt  is  placed  in  a  pan,  which  is  then 
filled  with  water.  When  the  larger  Ijimps  have  been 
dissolved,  the  pan  is  so  twirled  as  to  spill  the  water 
over  the  edge.  After  the  removal  of  the  larger  stones, 
the  pan  is  shaken  in  order  to  spread  out  the  remaining 
contents  on  the  bottom.  Then  the  heavy  gold,  which, 
if  present,  has  sunk  as  a  result  of  the  twirling,  will  be 
found  shining  on  the  bottom  of  the  pan. 

When  working  a  dry  placer  that  warrants  the  expen- 
diture of  time  and  effort,  the  gold-miner's  first  step  from 
the  crude  and  laborious  method  of  panning  is  the  con- 
struction of  a  sluice-box.  This  consists  of  a  wooden 
trough  (or  a  series  of  such  troughs)  on  the  bottom  of 
which  are  fastened  cleats  known  as  **  riffles."   Through 


I 


INTR  OD  UCTION  XI 

the  sluice  is  run  a  stream  of  water.  The  gold-bearing 
earth  is  fed  in  at  the  upper  end  ;  the  lighter  materials 
are  washed  out  at  the  lower  end  of  the  sluice,  while 
most  of  the  heavy  gold  is  caught  by  the  riffles.  Though 
there  are  further  refinements  of  this  process  where 
necessary  means  are  at  hand,  the  sluicing  done  by  John 
Thornton  and  his  companions  at  the  Lost  Mine  was  of 
the  simpler  kind. 

The  Dog  in  Literature. — The  powerful  appeal  made 
by  "The  Call  of  the  Wild"  is  but  another  illustration  of 
the  prominent  place  of  the  dog  in  the  legend,  folk-lore, 
and  romance  of  many  nations.  In  prehistoric  times, 
with  the  horse,  the  sheep,  and  the  cat,  the  dog  became 
domesticated.  His  faithfulness,  patience,  courage,  and 
ready  adaptation  to  man's  needs  have  in  the  course 
of  the  centuries  brought  him  to  first  place  among  man's 
four-footed  friends.  To  the  readiness  with  which  he 
has  responded  to  training  in  one  kind  of  duty  or  an- 
other is  due  in  no  small  measure  the  preservation  and 
improvement  of  breeds  so  many  and  so  different.  It 
is,  therefore,  but  natural  that  side  by  side  with  records 
of  defamation  of  the  dog  —  the  dog  of  Scripture,  for 
example  —  there  should  have  accumulated  a  mighty 
testimony  to  "  man's  best  friend." 

His  form  was  sculptured  on  the  stones  of  Nineveh. 
Regarded  as  sacred  throughout  Egypt,  he  was  at  his 
death  embalmed  and  buried  in  a  special  canine  ceme- 


Xll  INTRODUCTION 

tery.  After  a  faithful  slumbering  watch  over  his 
masters  for  untold  years,  Kitmer  was  at  last  rewarded 
by  being  permitted  to  enter  with  them  the  Mohamme- 
dan paradise.  Old  blind  Argus  alone  recognized  Odys- 
seus on  his  return  to  Ithaca  in  his  beggar  garb.  In 
somewhat  like  manner  it  was  Theron  that  knew  his 
master  Roderick. 

At  King  Arthur's  Court,  Cavall  the  "  hound  of  deep- 
est mouth  "  performed  such  wondrous  deeds  in  pulling 
down  red  deer,  boar,  and  wolf  that  at  his  latter  end  the 
great  king  himself  placed  him  in  a  grave  of  honor. 
Gorban,  the  white  hound  of  Umhad  the  Welsh  bard, 
was  honored  by  his  master  with  a  lay  expressing  the 
expectation  that  they  would  again  meet  in  heaven. 
Indeed,  from  this  same  general  belief  of  Celt  and  Nor- 
man arose  the  custom  of  interring  with  the  dead  chief- 
tain his  favorite  hound.  So,  too,  later  centuries  show 
us  sculptured  in  marble  the  faithful  friend  of  hunt  and 
household  lying  at  the  feet  of  the  recumbent  figure  of 
his  master. 

Legend  tells  us  of  the  mighty  Samr  who  avenged  his 
master's  death ;  of  Vigr,  who  once  steered  a  ship  home 
safely  and  who  at  Olaf's  death  remained  on  the  grave 
until  he  perished  of  starvation ;  of  Sauer,  gifted  with 
human  speech ;  of  Houdain,  who  shared  with  Tristrem 
and  Ysonde  the  "  drink  of  might." 

The  pages  of  the  past  reveal  other  instances  of  dog 


INTRODUCTION  xin 

heroes.  Three  saints  have  the  dog  under  their  protec- 
tion :  St.  Eustace,  St.  Roche,  and  St.  Hubert.  In 
Luxemburg  on  the  festival  of  St.  Hubert  pilgrims  throng 
his  shrine  for  a  blessing  on  themselves  and  their  dogs. 
He  appears  nameless  or  named  as  companion  of  the 
great  and  noble  of  the  earth.  Velazquez  and  Land- 
seer  have  rendered  him  homage  on  some  of  their 
noblest  canvasses.  He  has  been  the  theme  of  our 
English  writers  from  Chaucer's  day  to  our  own.  Great- 
est of  all  friends  of  the  dog  is  Scott.  ''  Every  shade  of 
canine  feeling,  every  development  of  canine  nature 
may  be  studied  in  the  pages  of  Sir  Walter."  Rab,  Bob 
Son  of  Battle,  and  Greyfriars  Bobby  are  more  recent 
testimonials.  Divers  regions  of  divers  ages  have 
brought  into  being,  each  its  great  dog.  In  "  The  Call 
of  the  Wild,"  Jack  London  has  given  us  in  Buck  a 
Northland  dog  worthy  to  take  place  side  by  side  with 
the  famous  dogs  of  the  past. 

The  Dog  in  the  Northland  of  America.  —  The  ability 
to  travel  steadily  on  small  amounts  of  food  and  water 
has  made  the  camel  indispensable  to  the  desert  tribes 
of  Asia  and  Africa.  Because  of  peculiar  fitness  for 
arduous  work  in  extremes  of  temperature,  the  dog 
occupies  a  similar  position  in  the  sparsely  civilized 
regions  of  upper  North  America.  He  is  able  to  with- 
stand extremes  of  cold  and  heat.  He  requires  little, 
if    any,    artificial    shelter    against    the    elements.     In 


XIV  INTRODUCTION 

proportion  to  his  size  he  displays  great  strength  and 
performs  heavy  labor  with  speed  for  long  sustained 
periods.  His  daily  food  is  about  a  pound  of  dried 
fish,  which  bulking  small  and  weighing  comparatively 
little,  can  be  taken  long  distances  in  quantity.  Thus, 
capable  of  transporting  much  more  than  his  own  food, 
the  dog  has  enabled  explorers  and  prospectors  to  pene- 
trate to  regions  otherwise  inaccessible.  It  was  a  team 
of  Arctic  dogs  that  drew  Peary  to  the  North  Pole. 

The  dogs  used  in  Upper  Canada  and  in  xA.laska  were 
in  the  earlier  days  of  settlement  principally  "huskies," 
with  their  cross-breeds,  and  Malmutes.  The  *'  huskies," 
Mackenzie  River  dogs,  resemble  the  Arctic  fox.  The 
Malmutes  are  Alaska  Indian  dogs  crossed  with  the 
wolf  and  resembling  wolves  in  appearance.  Such  dogs 
weigh  between  forty  and  eighty  pounds.  With  the 
rush  of  adventurers  to  the  gold-fields  came  a  demand 
that  could  not  be  supplied  from  local  sources.  This 
led  to  the  shipping  from  Lower  Canada  and  the  United 
States  of  larger  breeds  of  dogs,  such  as  the  mastiff,  the 
Saint  Bernard,  and  cross-bred  dogs  of  good  size  and 
heavy  coat.  Buck  of  "The  Call  of  the  Wild"  was  a 
cross  between  a  Saint  Bernard  and  a  Scotch  shepherd 
dog. 

Prospector,  gold-field  adventurer,  business  man, 
government  official  —  every  one  in  the  Klondike  days 
who  needed  to  travel  far  and  swiftly  —  had  to  use  the 


INTRODUCTION  XV 

dog  for  passage  inland  from  the  coast.  Around  the 
settlements  he  was  the  beast  of  all  work.  On  the  winter 
snows  transportation  was  (and  for  the  most  part  still  is) 
by  means  of  sleds.  These  sleds,  long  and  narrow,  were 
built  of  strong,  tough  wood.  The  various  parts  of  the 
sled  were  fastened  together,  to  an  extent  at  least, 
with  rawhide  thongs,  not  only  because  of  the  flexibility 
thereby  imparted  to  the  sled,  but  also  because  of  the 
ease  afforded  in  making  repairs  without  tools.  The 
dogs  of  the  Klondike  Trail  were  harnessed  tandem 
fashion  in  teams  of  six  or  more.  Next  to  the  sled  was 
the  wheel-dog,  or  wheeler;  at  the  head  of  the  line 
was  the  lead-dog.  The  harness  was  simple,  consisting 
merely  of  long  traces  fastening  into  a  collar-held  breast- 
band  and  further  supported  by  loops  in  a  band  passing 
over  the  back.  The  lack  of  pole  or  shafts  made  it 
impossible  for  the  dog  team  to  have  any  part  either  in 
backing  the  sled  or  retarding  its  forward  movement. 
The  rear  of  the  sled  ended  in  two  uprights  slanting 
backwards,  between  which  ran  horizontally  the  gee- 
pole.  By  means  of  this  gee-pole  a  man  could  steady  the 
course  of  the  sled,  push  it  where  the  going  was  heavy,  or 
hold  it  back  when  the  need  arose.  Moreover,  by  means 
of  the  gee-pole  he  was  able  to  "  break  out  "  the  sled 
when  the  runners  were  frozen  to  the  ground  after  the 
sled  had  stood  for  a  time.  The  load  was  fastened  to 
the  sled  by  lashings  that  ran  under  the  upper  crosspiece 


XVI  INTRODUCTION 

of  sleds  of  open  construction  or  through  holes  pierced  in 
the  upper  part  of  those  with  solid  runners.  On  such  a 
sled  a  strong  team  of  eight  well-fed  dogs  with  Buck  in 
the  lead  drew  a  lightly  laden  sled  an  average  of  forty 
miles  a  day,  up  hill  and  down,  for  forty  days,  in  a  tem- 
perature well  below  zero.  This,  however,  was  over  a 
hard-packed  trail.  No  such  time  was  made  with  larger 
loads  or  on  unbroken  trails  after  a  heavy  fall  of  snow 
or  at  the  beginning  of  the  spring  thaw. 

In  late  spring  and  in  summer  the  sled  could  no  longer 
be  used.  Then  dogs  acted  as  pack  animals,  each  bear- 
ing his  burden  snugly  fastened  on  his  back  and  held  in 
place  by  means  of  a  belly-band. 

The  Central  Idea  of  the  Book.  —  Every  animal  is  the 
descendant  of  wild  ancestors.  Through  domestication 
—  association  with  man  —  has  come  a  certain  dulling 
of  the  senses  and  new  habits  of  mind  and  of  action. 
Yet  in  every  domestic  animal  there  still  remain  in- 
stincts —  inheritances  from  the  wild  state,  the  primi- 
tive or  primordial  state  —  which  cause  an  animal  to  act 
automatically  under  given  conditions.  For  example, 
the  dog  turns  around  before  lying  down  and  on  moon- 
light nights  bays  at  the  moon. 

Buck  is  represented  as  the  perfect  product  of  genera- 
tions of  careful  breeding.  He  comes  from  a  home  where 
he  has  thoroughly  acquired  man's  ways.  His  sense  of 
sight,  of  smell,  of  hearing  have  become  comparatively 


INTRODUCTION  XVll 

dulled  because  not  acutely  needed  for  his  existence. 
Man  has  sheltered  him  and  provided  his  food.  Once 
thrown  on  his  own  resources  Buck's  dulled  senses  and 
slumbering  instincts  are  aroused.  One  by  one  return 
memories  of  life  in  the  days  when  his  ancestors  hunted 
with  the  pack ;  of  the  first  contact  of  the  dog  tribe  with 
early  man,  from  whom  we  ourselves  are  descended. 
The  memory-seeds  of  the  wild  or  half-tamed  dog, 
hidden  away  in  the  brain  of  Buck,  begin  to  germinate. 
Heredity  is  asserting  itself.  Some  might  consider 
Buck's  falling  away  from  man-made  habits  as  retro- 
gression —  a  step  backward  in  dog  development. 
Jack  London  seems  to  think  otherwise.  This  big- 
boned,  big-muscled,  heavy-coated  brute  he  conceives 
as  framed  by  nature  to  withstand  cold,  to  run  down 
large  game,  to  be,  like  the  best  in  the  earlier  days,  the 
leader,  the  *'  dominant  primordial  brute."  With  in- 
creasing fitness  to  live  supremely  well  the  life  for  which 
he  is  fitted.  Buck  hears  in  more  and  more  luring  tones 
the  call  of  the  ''Wild."  After  he  has  gloried  in  his  big 
kill,  nothing  could  have  held  him  but  his  love  for  John 
Thornton.  With  Thornton  dead  he  hearkens  tp  the 
'*  Call  "  and  returns  to  his  kind. 

Back  in  London's  mind  there  seems  to  have  been 
some  such  thought  as  this :  "  Relieved  of  man's  inter- 
■erence.  Nature  knows  best  what  to  do  with  man's  best 
Droduct."     Buck  through  selective  breeding  was  mas- 


X  VIU  INTR  OD  UCTION 

sive  and  powerful.  Through  age-long  association  with 
man  his  race  had  immensely  added  to  the  mental  hori- 
zon of  the  wild  dog  :  Buck  had  imagination.  Man  had 
made  him  the  best  of  his  kind.  Then  Nature  gathered 
him  to  herself  to  improve  her  own  children  —  the  wolves. 
Life  of  Jack  London.  —  Jack  London  was  born  in 
San  Francisco  on  January  12,  1876.  From  his  father, 
a  nomadic  trapper,  scout,  and  frontiersman,  he  seems 
to  have  inherited  his  own  massive  frame  and,  to  an 
extent  at  least,  his  love  of  adventure.  While  he  was 
still  a  little  boy,  his  parents  settled  on  a  ranch  in  the 
Livermore  Valley,  where  between  the  ages  of  eight  and 
ten  Jack  did  hard,  manual  labor.  During  this  time 
he  was  a  shy,  diffident  lad,  whose  little  schooling  in- 
cluded a  few  volumes  that  were  devoured  again  and 
again.  This  early  love  of  books  he  was  soon  able  to 
gratify  for,  when  in  his  tenth  year  the  London  family 
moved  to  Oakland,  Jack  devoted  so  much  time  to  the 
treasures  of  the  pubhc  library  that  he  was  threatened 
with  St.  Vitus'  Dance.  His  reading,  which  embraced 
books  of  all  sorts,  was  especially  rich  in  works  of  travel, 
exploration,  and  adventure.  This  pleasant  occupation 
soon  came  to  an  end,  since  it  became  necessary  for  him 
to  help  add  to  the  scanty  income  of  the  family.  He  ran 
about  the  city  as  a  newsboy,  and  worked  as  helper  on 
an  ice-wagon,  as  pin-boy  in  a  bowling  alley,  and  as 
sweeper  of  Sunday  picnic  grounds.     To  him  so  lately 


INTRODUCTION  XIX 

shut  up  on  a  ranch  these  occupations  savored  of  adven- 
ture. All  of  the  Hfe  he  now  Hved  was  Hnked  up  in  his 
mind  with  the  heroes  of  his  books.  Meanwhile,  he 
had  learned  to  sail  a  small  boat  on  San  Francisco  Bay 
and  had  developed  into  an  able  and  daring  swimmer. 

Upon  his  graduation  from  Oakland  Grammar  School 
at  the  age  of  fourteen,  he  took  a  position  in  a  cannery, 
where  he  slaved  like  a  dog  for  ten  cents  an  hour.  To 
escape  what  he  describes  as  his  *'  bestial  life  at  the 
machine,"  he  left  home  and  joined  a  band  of  oyster 
pirates.  With  them  he  stayed  for  several  months, 
subsequently  working  as  a  salmon  fisher,  serving  as 
petty  officer  of  the  Fish  Patrol,  and  knocking  about  as 
a  general  bayfaring  adventurer. 

Such  a  course  of  life  spelled  ruin  for  the  average  boy. 
But  to  Jack  London  came  a  gradual  realization  of  the 
worthlessness  of  his  career.  Therefore,  in  1893,  when 
but  sixteen,  to  escape  from  his  dangerous  associates,  he 
shipped  before  the  mast  as  able  seaman  and  spent 
several  months  on  a  sealing  vessel  in  the  Russian  part 
of  Bering  Sea.  Returning  home  he  picked  up  a  few 
dollars  by  shovelling  coal  and  by  laboring  as  a  long- 
shoreman. During  this  time  he  made  his  first  essay  at 
"writing.  A  local  newspaper  started  a  short-story  con- 
test. Urged  by  his  mother,  London  wrote  an  account  of 
a  typhoon  in  the  Sea  of  Japan  and  won  first  prize. 
It  was  this  success  that  aroused  in  him  a  desire  to  become 


XX  INTRODUCTION 

a  writer.  At  the  Oakland  public  library  he  resumed  his 
omnivorous  reading.  Moreover,  in  his  leisure  hours, 
he  constantly  practised  story  writing  while  engaged 
in  hard  daily  labor  for  long  hours  at  the  local  jute  mills. 
This  latter  place  he  left  when  refused  a  slight  increase 
in  his  daily  wage. 

He  now  sought  to  advance  himself  by  working  as  coal- 
passer  at  an  electric  light  plant.  Here  he  encountered 
the  acme  of  grinding  toil.  To  continue  thus  meant 
death  of  body  and  of  soul.  London,  however,  was  not 
of  the  kind  to  suffer  in  patience.  Hence,  in  utter  dis- 
gust with  labor  conditions  he  threw  down  the  shovel 
and  took  up  the  life  of  a  tramp.  From  Pacific  to 
Atlantic  he  wandered  in  the  United  States  and  Canada, 
now  afoot,  now  on  a  river  raft,  now  riding  the  brake- 
rods  of  fast  freight  trains.  He  visited  the  slums  of  the 
East  and  spent  more  than  one  term  in  jail  for  vagrancy. 
What  he  saw  in  the  underworld  made  of  him  a  Socialist. 
To  one  with  London's  zest  of  life  all  these  adventures 
were  in  a  way  enjoyable.  But  the  tragic  end  of  many 
of  his  rude  associates  had  taught  him  the  inevitable  out- 
come of  a  career  such  as  his.  "  I  was,"  says  he,  **  scared 
into  thinking  by  what  I  saw  in  the  cellar  of  society." 

Having  acquired  this  new  view  of  life  he  returned 
home  and  entered  the  Oakland  High  School.  Here  he 
studied  hard,  read  prodigiously,  *'went  with  nice  girls," 
got  a  glimpse  of  refinement  at  the  club  meetings  held 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

in  the  homes  of  well-to-do  pupils,  and  wrote  for  the 
high  school  magazine  stories  of  his  adventures  at  sea 
and  on  the  road.  Meanwhile  he  supported  himself  by 
acting  as  a  janitor  and  by  accepting  any  odd  job  that 
came  his  way,  such  as  mowing  lawns,  and  taking  up, 
beating,  and  laying  carpets.  Realizing  that  he  could 
not  continue  for  long  the  strain  of  hard  study  and  hard 
manual  labor,  London  quitted  high  school  and  after  a 
few  weeks'  stay  in  a  "cramming"  school  started  alone 
upon  a  course  of  intensive  study.  So  strong  were  his 
natural  powers  of  mind  and  so  thorough  was  his  applica- 
tion to  the  task  in  hand  that  in  three  months,  solely 
through  self -effort,  he  covered  the  last  two  years  of  the 
high  school  course  and  was  admitted  to  the  University 
of  California.  To  support  himself  while  carrying  on 
his  studies  he  took  a  position  in  a  steam-laundry. 
However,  as  the  money  thereby  earned  was  insufficient 
for  his  needs  he  was  compelled  to  leave  the  University 
during  his  Freshman  year.  Continuing  his  work  in  the 
laundry  he  tried  again  to  win  success  with  his  pen.  For 
a  few  weeks  he  wrote  copiously,  but  the  failure  of  his 
efforts  to  win  attention  convinced  him  of  his  educational 
shortcomings. 

At  this  time  came  news  of  the  great  discoveries  of 
gold  in  the  Klondike.  London,  now  in  his  twenty- 
second  year,  joined  the  throngs  that  hastened  to  the 
Northland.     After    a    year    of    unsuccessful    fortune- 


XXll  INTRODUCTION 

hunting,  he  was  stricken  with  the  scurvy.  Together 
with  a  few  companions  he  descended  the  Yukon  in  an 
open  boat,  a  trip  of  nineteen  hundred  miles  in  nineteen 
days.  During  this  journey  he  made  the  notes  of  his 
Northland  experiences  upon  which  later  were  based  a 
number  of  his  best  stories,  among  others  "  The  Call  of 
the  Wild."  Though  he  had  failed  in  his  quest  for  gold 
he  had  acquired  what  was  of  far  greater  value.  "  It 
was  in  the  Yukon  I  found  myself.  There  nobody  talks. 
Everybody  thinks.  You  get  your  true  perspective. 
I  got  mine." 

Working  as  coal-passer  on  a  steamer,  he  reached 
British  Columbia  and  thence  made  his  way  home. 
As  his  father  had  meanwhile  died,  the  support  of  the 
family  now  fell  upon  London.  Unequipped  with  any 
trade  he  was  once  more  compelled  to  undertake  any 
kind  of  manual  labor  that  gave  promise  of  a  slight 
reward.  During  this  period  he  passed  first  in  the  Civil 
Service  examination  for  mail-carrier.  The  brusque- 
ness  of  his  reception  by  a  post-office  official  was  all  that 
prevented  his  entering  the  Government  service. 

Meanwhile  he  had  returned  to  his  writing,  this  time 
determined  to  win  public  recognition.  Of  his  bitter 
struggles  he  gives  graphic  descriptions  in  several  of  his 
books.  Finally,  in  1899,  when  in  his  twenty-fourth 
year,  he  received  from  the  Overland  Magazine  five 
dollars  for  one  of  his  stories.     There  soon  followed 


INTBODUCTION  XXlll 

acceptances  from  other  periodicals,  bringing  better 
and  still  better  compensation.  London  had  ''arrived." 
Never  again  did  he  feel  the  pinch  of  poverty.  With  the 
publication  of  "  The  Call  of  the  Wild  "  in  1903  he 
sprang  into  prominence  as  a  writer.  Regularly  turning 
out  his  thousand  words  a  day  he  produced  within  less 
than  twenty  years  an  astonishing  amount  of  work. 

London's  literary  career  involved  him  in  many  activi- 
ties. He  wrote  not  only  for  the  magazines  but  also 
for  the  daily  press.  He  delivered  lectures,  principally 
on  socialistic  topics.  In  1902  he  visited  the  slums  in  the 
East  End  of  London  and  told  of  w^hat  he  saw  there  in 
"  The  People  of  the  Abj^ss,"  the  book  that  he  himself 
regarded  as  his  best.  As  correspondent  for  a  newspaper 
he  sent  from  the  East  some  good  stories  about  the  war 
between  Russia  and  Japan.  While  gathering  literary 
material  he  never  ceased  to  satisfy  his  boyish  love  of 
adventure.  With  his  second  wife,  born  Charmian 
.Kittredge,  he  rounded  the  Horn  in  a  sailing  vessel,  he 
serving  as  a  mate,  she  as  stewardess.  Later  they  made 
an  extended  voyage  in  a  small  schooner  from  San 
Francisco  to  numerous  islands  of  the  Pacific,  finally 
landing  in  Australia.  Their  homeward  jom'ney  carried 
them  through  western  South  America. 

A  few^  minor  events  in  London's  life  will  help  to  fill 
out  the  foregoing  sketch.  He  was  charged  with  being 
a  plagiarist  and  a  ''natm'e  fakir."     At  one  time  he  con- 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION 

templated  acting  for  the  moving  pictures.  S«"iie  of  his 
stories  were  dramatized  both  for  the  stage  and  for  the 
films.  On  the  charge  of  violating  Mexican  neutrality 
he  was  arrested  by  the  United  States  Government. 
He  was  nominated  for  the  office  of  Mayor  of  Oakland 
on  the  Sociahst  ticket.  His  attack  on  the  evils  of 
drink  brought  him  high  office  in  the  ranks  of  temper- 
ance advocates,  by  whom  he  was  seriously  considered 
as  candidate  for  the  Presidency  of  the  United  States  on 
the  Prohibition  Ticket.  In  1914  he  became  head  of  a 
grape-juice  corporation. 

His  pleasantest  hours  were  spent  on  his  magnificent 
ranch  near  the  village  of  Glen  Ellen,  California,  and 
overlooking  the  beautiful  Sonoma  Valley.  Here  after 
completing  his  daily  task  of  a  thousand  words  he  spent 
his  time  breeding  horses,  reclaiming  worn-out  soil  by 
scientific  rotation  of  crops,  aiid  "  scrawling  [himself] 
on  the  pages  of  time  with  a  hundred  thousand  eucalyp- 
tus trees."  Here,  too,  he  exercised  his  magnificent 
horsemanship.  From  this  home  he  departed  on  a 
trip  of  several  months,  during  which  he  drove  four 
spirited  horses  to  a  light  wagon  over  some  of  the  wildest 
mountain  country  of  California  and  Oregon. 

It  was  at  this  ranch  that  he  died  in  his  forty-first 
year,  on  November  22,  1916,  writing  almost  to  his  last 
hour.  He  had  expressed  a  wish  that  he  should  he 
cremated   and   that  his  a-shes  should  be  scattered  on 


INTRODUCTION  XXV 

the  seaV^  More  appropriately,  however,  they  were 
placed  in  an  urn  set  in  a  hillside  that  looked  down  upon 
the  peaceful  valley  that  had  in  a  sense  called  him  from 
the  ''  Wild." 

Jack  London's  Writings.  —  Drawing  upon  his  bitter 
struggles  for  support ;  upon  his  adventures  on  the  road 
and  at  sea,  in  the  Yukon  and  on  the  islands  of  the 
southern  Pacific ;  upon  his  observation  of  the  elements 
of  injustice  done  by  man  to  man ;  upon  his  dreams  of 
the  prehistoric  past  and  his  forecast  of  social  upheavals, 
Jack  London,  in  less  than  a  score  of  years,  brought  into 
being  a  truly  remarkable  array  of  books.  Good  as  is 
some  of  his  other  work,  his  stories  make  strongest  appeal. 
Best  of  all  are  his  Yukon  tales,  —  the  vividness  and 
vigor  of  which  caused  him  to  be  styled  by  certain  critics 
*'The  Kipling  of  the  North."  By  general  consensus  his 
best  piece  of  writing  was  "  The  Call  of  the  Wild."  In 
other  tales,  most  of  which  now  appear  collected  in 
volumes,  the  curious  reader  can  get  further  glimpses 
of  life  in  the  Northland  both  before  and  during 
Klondike  days.  The  aspirations  and  the  struggles, 
the  scheming  and  the  jealousy,  the  humor  and  the 
tragedy,  the  sordid  and  the  noble  passions  of  white 
man  and  of  native  —  all  are  portrayed  forcefully. 
Among  such  tales  are  "  A  Daughter  of  the  Snows," 
giving  vivid  details  of  the  Klondike  rush ;  "  The  Faith 
of  Men,"  two  of  the  stories  of  which  present  scenes  at 


XX  vi  INTR  OB  UCTION 

Bonanza,  and  one  of  which  gives  a  picture  of  a  dog 
whose  hatred  for  his  master  contrasts  strongly  with  the 
love  of  Buck  for  John  Thornton ;  "  The  Children  of 
the  Frost,"  with  a  good  portrayal  of  a  gold-prospecting 
site ;  "  The  Love  of  Life,"  considered  by  some  Lon- 
don's best  collection  of  short  stories,  among  which  is 
**  Brown  Wolf,"  a  dog  whose  excellences  remind  one  of 
Buck.  "  White  Fang  "  offers  an  interesting  contrast 
to  "  The  Call  of  the  Wild  "  in  that  it  tells  of  a  dog, 
half  wolf,  that  is  civilized  by  affection  for  a  man.  Other 
stories  laid  wholly  or  partly  in  the  Northland  are 
"  Burning  Daylight,"  *'  Lost  Face,"  and  "  Smoke 
Bellew,"  the  latter  giving  a  vivid  account  of  a  stampede 
to  new  gold-fields. 

By  their  strong  characterization,  thrilling  episodes, 
and  masterful  grasp  of  detail,  ''  The  Cruise  of  the 
Dazzler,"  "  The  Sea  Wolf,"  "  Tales  of  the  Fish  Patrol," 
and  "  The  Mutiny  of  the  Elsinore,"  show  us  how 
thoroughly  Jack  London  knew  and  loved  the  sea.  It 
must  have  been  a  return  to  his  fondness  for  the  small 
boat  of  his  bayfaring  days  that  led  to  his  long  cruise 
in  the  Pacific  —  ?  cruise  that  furnished  material  for 
many  stories.  "  The  Cruise  of  the  Snark "  offers 
striking  scenes  of  curious  lands :  the  gentle  lepers  of 
Molokai ;  the  courteous  folk  of  Tahiti ;  the  savage  and 
repulsive  natives  of  the  Solomon  Islands,  with  the 
Beche-de-Mer  English  jargon  employed  as  the  vehicle 


INTRODUCTION  xxvii 

of  communication  between  white  and  native.  "  Jerry 
of  the  Islands,"  one  of  the  latest  products  of  London's 
pen,  gives  yet  another  noble  dog  in  tropic  scenes  of 
murder  and  cannibalism.  Further  pictures  of  life 
in  the  Pacific  Islands  appear  in  "  Adventure,"  "  Son 
of  the  Sun,"  and  "  The  House  of  Pride." 

Of  somewhat  different  character  are  the  books  in 
which  Jack  London  reveals  his  own  career  either  di- 
rectly or  through  the  chief  character.  With  these  may 
appropriately  be  classed  others  setting  forth  his  views  on 
society  and  the  future  of  civilization.  Such  are  "  The 
People  of  the  Abyss,"  a  painful  story  of  personal  experi- 
ences among  the  poor  of  London  —  his  best  work  in  his 
own  estimation ;  "  When  God  Laughs,"  a  classic  on 
the  horrors  of  child  labor ;  ''  The  War  of  the  Classes  " 
and  the  '"  Iron  Heel,"  black  pictures  of  the  outcome  of 
the  mutual  hatred  of  rich  and  poor ;  "  The  Road,"  an 
account  of  London's  adventures  as  a  tramp  ;  "  Martin 
Eden,"  giving  in  the  life  of  the  principal  character  a 
picture  of  London's  own  struggle  for  recognition  as  a 
writer,  and  hinting  at  the  bitterness  he  felt  when  success 
was  at  last  his.  "  John  Barleycorn,"  a  remarkable 
self-revelation  on  the  evils  of  drink,  enables  us  to  learn 
many  of  the  details  of  London's  career. 

Among  the  quasi-scientific  flights  of  London's  imagi- 
nation are  "  Before  Adam,"  a  picture  of  primitive 
!2ian ;    "  The  Star  Rover,"  a  novel  treatment  of  self- 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION 

hypnosis  and  reincarnation ;  the  "  Scarlet  Plague/'  a 
story  of  the  depopulation  and  the  subsequent  repopula- 
tion  of  the  earth  in  recurring  periods.  In  similar  vein 
are  such  stories  as  those  appearing  in  *'  The  Strength  of 
the  Strong." 

Books  of  a  rather  less  strenuous  type  than  usually 
came  from  his  pen  are  the  "  Kempton-Wace  Letters,"  a 
few  plays,  at  least  one  of  which  was  presented  on  the 
stage,  and  some  poems  of  a  romantic  type. 

Jack  London's  Place  as  a  Writer.  —  It  is  as  yet  too 
early  to  reach  a  settled  conclusion  about  Jack  London's 
place  in  American  literature.  The  permanency  of  his 
work  will  depend  in  a  measure  on  the  reactions  of  the 
great  world  war.  At  present,  he  cannot  be  lightly 
set  aside.  Abroad,  he  is  the  best-known  American 
writer  of  this  generation.  His  life  history  of  successful 
struggle  against  obstacles,  his  emphasis  on  the  conquest 
of  physical  nature  by  brain  and  brawn,  and  the  sketchy 
rush  of  his  tales  stamp  him  as  typically  American. 
Because  of  his  vigorous  pictures  of  social  conditions,  he 
is  regarded  as  a  "  mighty  prophet  "  by  Russians  of  his 
school  of  philosophy. 

In  America,  opinion  is  divided.  Due  recognition  is 
given  to  the  strong  qualities  of  his  books  —  to  his 
"barbarian"  curiosity,  alertness,  concreteness,  and  zest 
of  struggle  and  conquest ;  to  his  unquestioned  love  of 
nature  and  his  power  to  portray  her  bigness  and  her 


INTRODUCTION  XXlX 

might;  to  the  clearness  and  vigor,  the  sincerity  or 
plausibility  of  action,  scene,  and  character;  to  his 
broad  sympathy  for  the  victims  of  man's  thoughtless- 
ness and  brutality ;  to  the  frankness  of  his  self -revela- 
tions. At  the  same  time  the  more  thoughtful  critics 
feel  that  despite  high  ability.  Jack  London  fell  short  of 
greatness.  The  lineal  descendant  of  Bret  Harte  and 
Kipling,  he  never  attained  to  the  simplicity  of  the  one 
or  the  literary  restraint  of  the  other.  He  wrote  too 
much  for  his  own  good.  He  expanded,  but  he  did  not 
grow.  The  reader  is  gradually  impressed  by  a  certain 
narrowness  of  view ;  by  his  continued  failure  properly 
to  evaluate  the  orderly  phases  of  society  to  whose 
endeavors  he,  himself,  owed  his  own  education  and  the 
comforts  of  nearly  twenty  years  of  his  life.  One  is  struck 
by  a  peculiar  sameness  in  the  men  he  holds  up  for 
admiration  :  again  and  again  he  seems  to  rewrite  himself 
in  his  heroes.  This  inability  to  objectify  —  to  dis- 
associate himself  from  the  phenomena  of  observation 
—  accounts  for  his  poor  depiction  of  women  —  and 
that,  too,  notwithstanding  his  appreciation  of  their 
great  influence  for  good  in  the  scheme  of  human  exist- 
ence. Where  analysis  and  study  might  have  yielded 
characters,  he  gives  us  mere  types.  Adequate  por- 
trayal is  sacrificed  to  action.  He  wrote  for  a  public 
whose  support  has  given  to  the  film  drama  of  to-day 
its  present  paramount  importance.     Even  his  essays 


XXX  INTRODUCTION 

on  the  social  order  leave  the  impression  of  emotion- 
alism. He  seems  more  concerned  with  what  has 
happened  or  is  happening  than  with  cures  for  the  ills 
he  depicts. 

But  for  all  his  shortcomings,  a  book  by  Jack  London 
enlists  our  attention  and  holds  us  to  the  end.  This  of 
itself  is  no  small  merit.  His  spirit  and  method  are 
preeminently  those  of  the  age  of  air-ships,  motor-cars, 
and  movies  ;  a  time  when  we  are  constantly  admonished 
to  *'  step  lively. "  To  have  been  the  literary  representa- 
tive of  his  age  —  an  age  at  least  alive,  even  if  a  bit  too 
bustling  —  is  surely  no  mean  distinction. 

Reference  Material.  —  At  present  those  interested  in 
Jack  London  have  no  sources  of  information  available 
other  than  stray  articles  catalogued  in  libraries  and  the 
clipping  bureaus  maintained  by  the  daily  papers.  In 
the  '*  Reader's  Guide  to  Periodical  Literature,"  volumes 
one,  two,  and  three,  and  the  later  current  numbers, 
may  be  found  a  large  amount  of  Jack  London  material : 
his  writings  as  they  appeared  currently,  criticisms, 
biographical  sketches,  and  photographs. 

The  young  reader  of  the  ''  Call  of  the  Wild  "  will  be 
interested  in  the  edition  illustrated  by  Paul  Bransom 
(Macmillan,  1916).  There  may  be  found  pictures  of 
all  the  prominent  characters  of  the  story,  human  and 
canine,  as  well  as  pictures  of  sleds,  totems,  incidents, 
and  scenery. 


INTRODUCTION  xxxi 

For  help  received  in  the  preparation  of  this  book 
the  thanks  of  the  Editor  are  due  to  the  management 
of  the  New  York  World,  to  Mr.  Edwin  Fairley  and 
Miss  Adelaide  Brown  of  Jamaica  High  School,  and  to 
Miss  Wilhelmina  Hayes. 

T.  C.  M. 


THE  CALL  OF  THE  WILD 


INTO    THE    PRIMITIVE 

**  Old  longings  nomadic  leap, 
Chafing  at  custom's  chain, 
Again  from  its  brumal  sleep 
Wakens  the  ferine  strain." 

Buck  did  not  read  the  newspapers,  or  he  would  have 
known  that  trouble  was  brewing,  not  alone  for  himself, 
but  for  every  tide-water  dog,°  strong  of  muscle  and 
with  warm,  long  hair,  from  Puget  Sound  to  San  Diego. 
Because  men,  groping  in  the  Arctic  darkness,  had  5 
found  a  yellow  metal,  and  because  steamship  and  trans- 
portation companies  were  booming  the  find,°  thousands 
of  men  were  rushing  into  the  Northland.  These  men 
wanted  dogs,  and  the  dogs  they  wanted  were  heavy 
dogs,  with  strong  muscles  by  which  to  toil,  and  furry  lo 
coats  to  protect  them  from  the  frost. 

Buck  lived  at  a  big  house  in  the  sun-kissed  Santa 
Clara  Valley.  Judge  Miller's  place,  it  was  called. 
It  stood  back  from  the  road,  half  hidden  among  the 
trees,  through  which  glimpses  could  be  caught  of  the  15 

B  1 


2  THE    CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

wide  cool  veranda  that  ran  around  its  four  sides. 
The  house  was  approached  by  gravelled  driveways 
which  wound  about  through  wide-spreading  lawns 
and  under  the  interlacing  boughs  of  tall  poplars.  At 
5  the  rear  things  were  on  even  a  more  spacious  scale 
than  at  the  front.  There  were  great  stables,  where 
a  dozen  grooms  and  boys  held  forth,  rows  of  vine-clad 
servants'  cottages,  an  endless  and  orderly  array  of 
outhouses,    long    grape    arbors,    green    pastures,    or- 

10  chards,  and  berry  patches.  Then  there  was  the  pump- 
ing plant  for  the  artesian  well,  and  the  big  cement 
tank  where  Judge  Miller's  boys  took  their  morning 
plunge  and  kept  cool  in  the  hot  afternoon. 

And   over  this   great  demesne°   Buck  ruled.     Here 

15  he  was  born,  and  here  he  had  lived  the  four  years 
of  his  life.  It  was  true,  there  were  other  dogs. 
There  could  not  but  be  other  dogs  on  so  vast  a  place, 
but  they  did  not  count.  They  came  and  went,  re- 
sided in  the  populous  kennels,  or  lived  obscurely  in 

20  the  recesses  of  the  house  after  the  fashion  of  Toots, 
the  Japanese  pug,  or  Ysabel,  the  Mexican  hairless,  — 
strange  creatures  that  rarely  put  nose  out  of  doors 
or  set  foot  to  ground.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were 
the  fox  terriers,  a  score  of  them  at  least,  who  yelped 

25  fearful  promises  at  Toots  and  Ysabel  looking  out  of  the 
windows  at  them  and  protected  by  a  legion  of  house- 
maids armed  with  brooms  and  mops. 

But   Buck  was   neither  house-dog   nor   kennel-dog. 
The    whole    realm    was    his.      He    plunged    into    the 

30  swimming   tank   or  went   hunting   with   the  Judge's 


INTO   THE  PRIMITIVE  3 

sons ;  he  escorted  Mollie  and  x\lice,  the  Judge's 
daughters,  on  long  twihght  or  early  morning  rambles ; 
on  wintry  nights  he  lay  at  the  Judge's  feet  before 
the  roaring  library  fire ;  he  carried  the  Judge's  grand- 
sons on  his  back,  or  rolled  them  in  the  grass,  and  5 
guarded  their  footsteps  through  wild  adventures 
down  to  the  fountain  in  the  stable  yard,  and  even 
beyond,  where  the  paddocks  were,  and  the  berry 
patches.  Among  the  terriers  he  stalked  imperiously, 
and  Toots  and  Ysabel  he  utterly  ignored,  for  he  was  10 
king,  —  king  over  all  creeping,  crawling,  flying  things 
of  Judge  Miller's  place,  humans  included. 

His  father,  Elmo,  a  huge  St.  Bernard,  had  been 
the  Judge's  inseparable  companion,  and  Buck  bid 
fair  to  follow  in  the  way  of  his  father.  He  was  not  15 
so  large,  —  he  weighed  only  one  hundred  and  forty 
pounds,  —  for  his  mother,  Shep,  had  been  a  Scotch 
shepherd  dog.  Nevertheless,  one  hundred  and  forty 
pounds,  to  which  was  added  the  dignity  that  comes  of 
good  living  and  universal  respect,  enabled  him  to  carry  20 
himself  in  right  royal  fashion.  During  the  four  years 
since  his  puppyhood  he  had  lived  the  life  of  a  sated 
aristocrat;  he  had  a  fine  pride  in  himself,  was  ever  a 
trifle  egotistical,  as  country  gentlemen  sometimes  be- 
come because  of  their  insular  situation.  But  he  had  25 
saved  himself  by  not  becoming  a  mere  pampered  house- 
dog. Hunting  and  kindred  outdoor  delights  had  kept 
down  the  fat  and  hardened  his  muscles ;  and  to  him, 
as  to  the  cold-tubbing  races,  the  love  of  water  had  been 
a  tonic  and  a  health  preserver.  30 


4  THE  CAth   OF  THE   WILD 

And  this  was  the  manner  of  dog  Buck  was  in  the 
fall  of  1897,  when  the  Klondike  strike°  dragged  men 
from  all  the  world  into  the  frozen  North.  But  Buck 
did  not  read  the  newspapers,  and  he  did  not  know  that 

5  Manuel,  one  of  the  gardener's  helpers,  was  an  unde- 
sirable acquaintance.  Manuel  had  one  besetting  sin. 
He  loved  to  play  Chinese  lottery.  Also,  in  his  gam- 
bling, he  had  one  besetting  weakness  —  faith  in  a 
system°;    and  this  made  his  damnation  certain.     For 

10  to  play  a  system  requires  money,  while  the  wages 
of  a  gardener's  helper  do  not  lap  over  the  needs  of  a 
wife  and  numerous  progeny. 

The  Judge  was  at  a  meeting  of  the  Raisin  Growers' 
Association,   and   the  boys  were  busy  organizing   an 

15  athletic  club,  on  the  memorable  night  of  Manuel's 
treachery.  No  one  saw  him  and  Buck  go  off  through 
the  orchard  on  what  Buck  imagined  was  merely  a 
stroll.  And  with  the  exception  of  a  solitary  man,  no 
one  saw  them  arrive  at  the  little  flag  station  known  as 

20  College  Park.  This  man  talked  with  Manuel,  and 
money  chinked  between  them. 

"You  might  wrap  up  the  goods  before  you  deliver 
'm,"  the  stranger  said  gruffly,  and  Manuel  doubled  a 
piece  of  stout  rope  around  Buck's  neck  under  the  collar. 

25  "Twist  it,  an'  you'll  choke  'm  plentee,"  said  Manuel, 
and  the  stranger  grunted  a  ready  affirmative. 

Buck  had  accepted  the  rope  with  quiet  dignity. 
To  be  sure,  it  was  an  unwonted  performance :  but 
he  had  learned  to  trust  in  men  he  knew,  and  to  give 

30  them  credit  for  a  wisdom  that  outreached  his  own. 


INTO    THE  PRIMITIVE  6 

But  when  the  ends  of  the  rope  were  placed  in  the 
stranger's  hands,  he  growled  menacingly.  He  had 
merely  intimated  his  displeasure,  in  his  pride  be- 
lieving that  to  intimate  was  to  command.  But  to 
his  surprise  the  rope  tightened  around  his  neck,  5 
shutting  off  his  breath.  In  quick  rage  he  sprang  at 
the  man,  who  met  him  halfway,  grappled  him  close 
by  the  throat,  and  with  a  deft  twist  threw  him  over 
on  his  back.  Then  the  rope  tightened  mercilessh^ 
while  Buck  struggled  in  a  fury,  his  tongue  lolling  out  lo 
of  his  mouth  and  his  great  chest  panting  futilely. 
Never  in  all  his  life  had  he  been  so  vilely  treated,  and 
never  in  all  his  life  had  he  been  so  angry.  But  his 
strength  ebbed,  his  eyes  glazed,  and  he  knew^  nothing 
when  the  train  was  flagged  and  the  tvv^o  men  threw  15 
him  into  the  baggage  car. 

The  next  he  knew,  he  was  dimly  aware  that  his 
tongue  was  hurting  and  that  he  was  being  jolted 
along  in  some  kind  of  a  conveyance.  The  hoarse 
shriek  of  a  locomotive  whistling  a  crossing  told  him  20 
where  he  was.  He  had  travelled  too  often  with  the 
Judge  not  to  know  the  sensation  of  riding  in  a  baggage 
car.  He  opened  his  eyes,  and  into  them  came  the  un- 
bridled anger  of  a  kidnapped  king.  The  man  sprang 
for  his  throat,  but  Buck  was  too  quick  for  him.  His  25 
jaws  closed  on  the  hand,  nor  did  they  relax  till  his 
senses  were  choked  out  of  him  once  more. 

"Yep,  has  fits,"  the  man  said,  hiding  his  mangled 
hand  from  the  baggageman,  who  had  been  attracted 
-by  the  sounds  of  struggle.     "  I'm  takin'  'm  up  for  the  30 


6  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

boss  to  'Frisco.     A  crack  dog-doctor  there  thinks  that 
he  can  cure  'm." 

Concerning  that  night's  ride  the  man  spoke  most 
eloquentl}'  for  himself,  in  a  Httle  shed,  back  of  a  saloon 
5  on  the  San  Francisco  water  front. 

''All  I  get  is  fifty  for  it,"  he  grumbled,  "an' 
I  wouldn't  do  it  over  for  a  thousand,  cold  cash." 

His  hand  was  wrapped  in  a  bloody  handkerchief, 
and  the  right  trouser  leg  was  ripped  from  knee  to 
10  ankle. 

"How  much  did  the  other  mug  get?"  the  saloon- 
keeper demanded. 

"A  hundred,"  was  the  reply.     "Wouldn't  take  a 
sou  less,  so  help  me." 
15      "That   makes   a   hundred   and   fifty,"    the   saloon- 
keeper calculated ;  "  and  he's  worth  it,  or  I'm  a  square- 
head." ° 

The   kidnapper   undid    the    bloody   wrappings    and 
looked  at  his  lacerated  hand.     "If  I  don't  get  the 
20  hydrophoby  — " 

"It'll  be  because  you  was  born  to  hang,"  laughed 
the  saloon-keeper.  "Here,  lend  me  a  hand  before 
you  pull  your  freight,"  he  added. 

Dazed,  suffering  intolerable  pain  from  throat  and 
25  tongue,  with  the  life  half  throttled  out  of  him,  Buck 
attempted  to  face  his  tormentors.  But  he  was  thrown 
down  and  choked  repeatedly,  till  they  succeeded  in 
filing  the  heavy  brass  collar  from  off  his  neck.  Then 
the  rope  was  removed,  and  he  was  flung  into  a  cagelike 
30  crate. 


INTO   THE  PRIMITIVE  7 

There  he  lay  for  the  remainder  of  the  weary  night, 
nursing  his  wrath  and  wounded  pride.  He  could  not 
understand  what  it  all  meant.  What  did  they  want 
with  him,  these  strange  men?  Why  were  they  keep- 
ing him  pent  up  in  this  narrow  crate  ?  He  did  not  5 
know  why,  but  he  felt  oppressed  by  the  vague  sense  of 
impending  calamity.  Several  times  during  the  night 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  when  the  shed  door  rattled  open, 
expecting  to  see  the  Judge,  or  the  boys  at  least.  But 
each  time  it  was  the  bulging  face  of  the  saloon-keeper  10 
that  peered  in  at  him  by  the  sickly  light  of  a  tallow 
candle.  And  each  time  the  joyful  bark  that  trembled 
in  Buck's  throat  was  twisted  into  a  savage  growl. 

But  the  saloon-keeper  let  him  alone,  and  in  the 
morning  four  men  entered  and  picked  up  the  crate.  15 
More  tormentors.  Buck  decided,  for  they  were  evil- 
looking  creatures,  ragged  and  unkempt;  and  he 
stormed  and  raged  at  them  tlu-ough  the  bars.  They 
only  laughed  and  poked  sticks  at  him,  which  he 
promptly  assailed  with  his  teeth  till  he  realized  that  20 
that  was  what  they  wanted.  Whereupon  he  lay  down 
sullenly  and  allowed  the  crate  to  be  lifted  into  a 
wagon.  Then  he,  and  the  crate  in  which  he  was  im- 
prisoned, began  a  passage  through  many  hands. 
Clerks  in  the  express  office  took  charge  of  him;  he 25 
was  carted  about  in  another  wagon;  a  truck  carried 
him,  with  an  assortment  of  boxes  and  parcels,  upon 
a  ferry  steamer;  he  was  trucked  off  the  steamer  into 
a  great  railway  depot,  and  finally  he  was  deposited 
in  an  express  car.  30 


8  THE  CALL    OF  THE    WILD 

For  two  days  and  nights  this  express  car  was  dragged 
along  at  the  tail  of  shrieking  locomotives ;  and  for 
two  days  and  nights  Buck  neither  ate  nor  drank.  In 
his  anger  he  had  met  the  first  advances  of  the  express 
5  messengers  with  growls,  and  they  had  retaliated  by 
teasing  him.  When  he  flung  himself  against  the  bars, 
quivering  and  frothing,  they  laughed  at  him  and 
taunted  him.  They  growled  and  barked  like  detestable 
dogs,  mewed,  and  flapped  their  arms  and  crowed.     It 

10 was  all  very  silly,  he  knew;    but  therefore  the  more 
outrage  to  his  dignity,  and  his  anger  waxed  and  waxed. 
He  did  not  mind  the  hunger  so  much,  but  the  lack  of 
water    caused    him    severe    suffering    and    fanned    his' 
wrath  to  fever  pitch.     For  that  matter,  high-strung 

15  and  finely  sensitive,  the  ill  treatment  had  flung  him 
into  a  fever,  which  was  fed  by  the  inflammation  of  his 
parched  and  swollen  throat  and  tongue. 

He  was  glad  for  one  thing  :   the  rope  was  off  his  neck. 
That  had  given  them  an  unfair  advantage;    but  now 

20  that  it  was  off,  he  would  show  them.  They  would 
never  get  another  rope  around  his  neck.  Upon  that 
he  was  resolved.  For  two  days  and  nights  he  neither 
ate  nor  drank,  and  during  those  two  davs  and  nights 
of  torment,  he  accumulated  a  fund  of  wrath  that  boded 

25  ill  for  whoever  first  fell  foul  of  him.  His  eyes  turned 
blood-shot,  and  he  was  metamorphosed"  into  a  raging 
fiend.  So  changed  was  he  that  the  Judge  himself 
would  not  have  recognized  him ;  and  the  express 
messengers  breathed  with  relief  when   they   bundled 

30  him  off  the  train  at  Seattle. 


INTO   THE  PRIMITIVE  9 

Four  men  gingerly  carried  the  crate  from  the  wagon 
into  a  small,  high-walled  back  yard.  A  stout  man, 
with  a  red  sweater  that  sagged  generously  at  the  neck, 
came  out  and  signed  the  book  for  the  driver.  That 
was  the  man.  Buck  divined,  the  next  tormentor,  and  5 
he  hurled  himself  savagely  against  the  bars.  The  man 
smiled  grimly,  and  brought  a  hatchet  and  a  club. 

"You  ain't  going  to  take  him  out  now?"  the  driver 
asked. 

"Sure,"  the  man  replied,  driving  the  hatchet  into  10 
the   crate   for   a   pry.     There   was    an   instantaneous 
scattering  of  the  four  men  who  had  carried  it  in,  and 
from  safe  perches  on  top  the  wall  they   prepared  to 
watch  the  performance. 

Buck  rushed  at  the  splintering  wood,  sinking  his  15 
teeth  into  it,  surging  and  wrestling  with  it.  Wherever 
the  hatchet  fell  on  the  outside,  he  was  there  on  the 
inside,  snarling  and  growling,  as  furiously  anxious  to 
get  out  as  the  man  in  the  red  sweater  was  calmly 
intent  on  getting  him  out.  20 

"Now,  you  red-eyed  devil,"  he  said,  when  he  had 
made  an  opening  sufficient  for  the  passage  of  Buck's 
body.  At  the  same  time  he  dropped  the  hatchet 
and  shifted  the  club  to  his  right  hand. 

And  Buck  was  truly  a  red-e^'ed  devil,  as  he  drew  25 
himself  together  for  the  spring,  hair  bristling,  mouth 
foaming,  a  mad  glitter  in  his  bloodshot  eyes.  Straight 
at  the  man  he  launched  his  one  hundred  and  forty  pounds 
of  fury,  surcharged  with  the  pent  passion  of  two  days 
and  nights.     In  mid  air,  just  as  his  jaws  were  about  to  30 


10  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

close  on  the  man,  he  received  a  shock  that  checked 
his  body  and  brought  his  teeth  together  with  an 
agonizing  chp.  He  whirled  over,  fetching  the  ground 
on  his  back  and  side.  He  had  never  been  struck  by  a 
5  club  in  his  life,  and  did  not  understand.  With  a 
snarl  that  was  part  bark  and  more  scream  he  was 
again  on  his  feet  and  launched  into  the  air.  And  again 
the  shock  came  and  he  was  brought  crushingly  to  the 
ground.     This    time   he   was   aware   that   it   was   the 

10  club,  but  his  madness  knew  no  caution.  A  dozen 
times  he  charged,  and  as  often  the  club  broke  the  charge 
and  smashed  him  down. 

After  a  particularly  fierce  blow,  he  crawled  to  his 
feet,  too  dazed  to  rush.     He  staggered  limply  about, 

15  the  blood  flowing  from  nose  and  mouth  and  ears,  his 
beautiful  coat  sprayed  and  flecked  with  bloody  slaver. 
Then  the  man  advanced  and  deliberately  dealt  him  a 
frightful  blow  on  the  nose.  All  the  pain  he  had  endured 
was  as  nothing  compared  with  the  exquisite  agony  of 

20  this.  With  a  roar  that  was  almost  lionlike  in  its  feroc- 
ity, he  again  hurled  himself  at  the  man.  But  the 
man,  shifting  the  club  from  right  to  left,  coolly  caught 
him  by  the  under  jaw,  at  the  same  time  wrenching 
downward  and  backward.     Buck  described  a  complete 

25  circle  in  the  air,  and  half  of  another,  then  crashed  to 
the  ground  on  his  head  and  chest. 

For  the  last  time  he  rushed.  The  man  struck  the 
shrewd  blow  he  had  purposely  withheld  for  so  long, 
and  Buck  crumpled  up  and  went  down,  knocked  utterly 

30  senseless. 


INTO   THE  PRIMITIVE  11 

"He's  no  slouch  at  dog-breakin',  that's. wot  I  say," 
one  of  the  men  on  the  wall  cried  enthusiasticalh'. 

"Driither  break  cayuses°  any  day,  and  twice  on 
Sundays,"  was  the  reply  of  the  driver,  as  he  climbed  on 
the  wagon  and  started  the  horses.  5 

Buck's  senses  came  back  to  him,  but  not  his  strength. 
He  lay  where  he  had  fallen,  and  from  there  he  watched 
the  man  in  the  red  sweater. 

"'xA.nswers  to  th^  name  of  Buck,'"  the  man  solil- 
oquized,°  quoting  from  the  saloon-keeper's  letter  which  10 
had  announced  the  consignment  of  the  crate  and  con- 
tents. "Well,  Buck,  my  boy,"  he  went  on  in  a  genial 
voice,  "we've  had  our  little  ruction,  and  the  best  thing 
we  can  do  is  to  let  it  go  at  that.  You've  learned  your 
place,  and  I  know  mine.  Be  a  good  dog  and  all'll  15 
go  well  and  the  goose  hang  high.  Be  a  bad  dog,  and 
I'll  whale  the  stufHn'  outa  you.     Understand?" 

As  he  spoke  he  fearlessly  patted  the  head  he  had  so 
mercilessly  pounded,  and  though  Buck's  hair  in- 
voluntarily bristled  at  touch  of  the  hand,  he  endured  20 
it  without  protest.  When  the  man  brought  him  water, 
he  drank  eagerly,  and  later  bolted  a  generous  meal  of 
raw  meat,  chunk  by  chunk,  from  the  man's  hand. 

He  was  beaten  (he  knew  that) ;  but  he  was  not 
broken.  He  saw,  once  for  all,  that  he  stood  no  chance  25 
against  a  man  with  a  club.  He  had  learned  the  lesson, 
and  in  all  his  after  life  he  never  forgot  it.  That  club 
was  a  revelation.  It  was  his  introduction  to  the  reign 
of  primitive  law,°  and  he  met  the  introduction  halfway. 
The  facts  of  life  took  on  a  fiercer  aspect ;   and  while  he  30 


12  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

faced  that  aspect  uncowed,  he  faced  it  with  all  the 
latent  cunning  of  his  nature  aroused.  As  the  days 
went  by,  other  dogs  came,  in  crates  and  at  the  ends  of 
ropes,  some  docilely,  and  some  raging  and  roaring  as 
5  he  had  come ;  and,  one  and  all,  he  watched  them  pass 
under  the  dominion  of  the  man  in  the  red  sweater. 
Again  and  again,  as  he  looked  at  each  brutal  per- 
formance, the  lesson  was  driven  home  to  Buck :  a 
man  with  a  club  was  a  lawgiver,  a  master  to  be  obeyed, 

10  though  not  necessarily  conciliated. °  Of  this  last 
Buck  was  never  guilty,  though  he  did  see  beaten  dogs 
that  fawned  upon  the  man,  and  wagged  their  tails, 
and  licked  his  hand.  Also  he  saw  one  dog,  that  would 
neither  conciliate  nor  obey,  finally  killed  in  the  struggle 

15  for  mastery. 

Now  and  again  men  came,  strangers,  who  talked 
excitedly,  wheedlingly,  and  in  all  kinds  of  fashions 
to  the  man  in  the  red  sweater.  And  at  such  times 
that  money  passed  between  them  the  strangers  took 

20  one  or  more  of  the  dogs  away  with  them.  Buck 
wondered  where  they  went,  for  they  never  came  back ; 
but  the  fear  of  the  future  was  strong  upon  him,  and 
he  was  glad  each  time  when  he  was  not  selected. 

Yet  his  time  came,  in  the  end,   in  the  form  of  a 

25  little  weazened  man  who  spat  broken  English  and 
many  strange  and  uncouth  exclamations  which  Buck 
could  not  understand. 

"Sacredam !"  he  cried,  when  his  eyes  lit  upon  Buck. 
"  Dat  one  dam  bully  dog  !     Eh  ?     How  moch  ?  " 

30      "Three  hundred,  and  a  present  at  that,"  was  the 


INTO   THE  PRIMITIVE  13 

prompt  reply  of  the  man  in  the  red  sweater.  "And 
seein'  it's  government  money,  you  ain't  got  no  kick 
coming,  eh,  Perrault?" 

Perrault  grinned.  Considering  that  the  price  of 
dogs  had  been  boomed  skyward  by  the  unwonted  5 
demand,  it  was  not  an  unfair  sum  for  so  fine  an  animaL 
The  Canadian  Government  would  be  no  loser,  nor  would 
its  despatches  travel  the  slower.  Perrault  knew  dogs, 
and  when  he  looked  at  Buck  he  knew  that  he  was  one 
in  a  thousand  —  "  One  in  ten  t'ousand,"  he  com-  lo 
mented  mentally. 

Buck  saw  money  pass  between  them,  and  was  not 
surprised  when  Curly,  a  good-natured  Newfound- 
land, and  he  were  led  away  by  the  little  weazened 
man.  That  was  the  last  he  saw  of  the  man  in  the  15 
red  sweater,  and  as  Curly  and  he  looked  at  receding 
Seattle  from  the  deck  of  the  Nanchal,  it  was  the 
last  he  saw  of  the  warm  Southland.  Curly  and  he 
were  taken  below  b}-  Perrault  and  turned  over  to  a 
black-faced  giant  called  Francois.  Perrault  was  a  20 
French-Canadian,  and  swarthy°;  but  Francois  was  a 
French-Canadian  half-breed,°  and  twice  as  swarthy. 
They  were  a  new  kind  of  men  to  Buck  (of  which 
he  was  destined  to  see  many  more),  and  while  he 
developed  no  affection  for  them,  he  none  the  less  25 
grew  honestly  to  respect  them.  He  speedily  learned 
that  Perrault  and  Fran9ois  were  fair  men,  calm  and 
impartial  in  administering  justice,  and  too  wise  in 
the  way  of  dogs  to  be  fooled  by  dogs. 

In    the    'tween-decks°  of   the  Narwhal,  Buck    and  30 


14  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

Curly  joined  two  other  dogs.  One  of  them  was  a 
big,  snow-white  fellow  from  Spitzbergen°  who  had 
been  brought  away  by  a  w^haling  captain,  and  who  had 
later  accompanied  a  Geological  Survey  into  the  Barrens. 

5  He  was  friendly,  in  a  treacherous  sort  of  way, 
smiling  into  one's  face  the  while  he  meditated  some 
underhand  trick,  as,  for  instance,  when  he  stole  from 
Buck's  food  at  the  first  meal.  As  Buck  sprang  to 
punish  him,  the  lash  of  Francois's  whip  sang  through 

10  the  air,  reaching  the  culprit  first ;  and  nothing  re- 
mained to  Buck  but  to  recover  the  bone.  That  was 
fair  of  Francois,  he  decided,  and  the  half-breed  began 
his  rise  in  Buck's  estimation. 

The   other   dog   made   no    advances,    nor   received 

15  any ;  also,  he  did  not  attempt  to  steal  from  the  new- 
comers. He  was  a  gloomy,  morose  fellow,  and  he 
showed  Curly  plainl}^  that  all  he  desired  was  to  be 
left  alone,  and  further,  that  there  would  be  trouble  if 
he  were  not  left  alone.     "Dave"  he  was  called,  and 

20  he  ate  and  slept,  or  yawned  between  times,  and  took 
interest  in  nothing,  not  even  when  the  Nanvhal  crossed 
Queen  Charlotte  Sound  and  rolled  and  pitched  and 
bucked°  like  a  thing  possessed. °  When  Buck  and 
Curly  grew  excited,  half  wild  with  fear,  he  raised  his 

25  head  as  though  annoyed,  favored  them  with  an  in- 
curious glance,  yaw^ned,  and  went  to  sleep  again. 

Day  and  night  the  ship  throbbed  to  the  tireless 
pulse  of  the  propeller,  and  though  one  day  was  very 
like  another,  it  was  apparent  to  Buck  that  the  weather 

30  was  steadily  growing  colder.     At  last,  one  morning. 


INTO   THE  PRIMITIVE  15 

the  propeller  was  quiet,  and  the  Narwhal  was  pervaded 
with  an  atmosphere  of  excitement.  He  felt  it,  as  did 
the  other  dogs,  and  knew  that  a  change  was  at  hand. 
Francois  leashed  them  and  brought  them  on  deck. 
At  the  first  step  upon  the  cold  surface.  Buck's  feet  5 
sank  into  a  white  mushy  something  very  like  mud. 
He  sprang  back  with  a  snort.  More  of  this  white 
stuff  was  falling  through  the  air.  He  shook  himself, 
but  more  of  it  fell  upon  him.  He  sniffed  it  curiously, 
then  licked  some  up  on  his  tongue.  It  bit  like  fire,  and  10 
the  next  instant  was  gone.  This  puzzled  him.  He 
tried  it  again,  with  the  same  result.  The  onlookers 
laughed  uproariously,  and  he  felt  ashamed,  he  knew 
not  why,  for  it  was  his  first  snow. 


II 

THE    LAW   OF   CLUB   AND    FANG 

Buck's  first  day  on  the  Dyea  beach  was  like  a  night- 
mare. Every  hour  was  filled  with  shock  and  surprise. 
He  had  been  suddenly  jerked  from  the  heart  of  civili- 
zation and  flung  into  the  heart  of  things  primordial. 

5  No  lazy,  sunkissed  life  was  this,  with  nothing  to  do 
but  loaf  and  be  bored.  Here  was  neither  peace,  nor 
rest,  nor  a  moment's  safety.  All  was  confusion  and 
action,  and  every  moment  life  and  limb  were  in  peril. 
There  was  imperative  need  to  be  constantly  alert; 

10  for  these  dogs  and  men  were  not  town  dogs  and  men. 
They  were  savages,  all  of  them,  who  knew  no  law  but 
the  law  of  club  and  fang. 

He  had  never  seen  dogs  fight  as  these  wolfish  crea- 
tures fought,  and  his  first  experience  taught  him  an 

15  unforgetable  lesson.  It  is  true,  it  was  a  vicarious 
experience,  °  else  he  would  not  have  lived  to  profit 
by  it.  Curly  was  the  victim.  They  were  camped 
near  the  log  store,  where  she,  in  her  friendly  way, 
made  advances  to  a  husky  dog  the  size  of  a  fullgrown 

20  wolf,  though  not  half  so  large  as  she.  There  was  no 
warning,  only  a  leap  in  like  a  flash,  a  metallic  clip  of 

16 


THE  LAW  OF  CLUB  AND  FANG  17 

teeth,  a  leap  out  equally  swift,  and  Curly 's  face  was 
ripped  open  from  eye  to  jaw. 

It  was  the  wolf  manner  of  fighting,  to  strike  and 
leap  away ;  but  there  was  more  to  it  than  this.  Thirty 
or  forty  huskies°  ran  to  the  spot  and  surrounded  the  5 
combatants  in  an  intent  and  silent  circle.  Buck  did 
not  comprehend  that  silent  intentness,  nor  the  eager 
way  with  which  they  were  licking  their  chops.  Curly 
rushed  her  antagonist,  who  struck  again  and  leaped 
aside.  He  met  her  next  rush  w^ith  his  chest,  in  a  lO 
peculiar  fashion  that  tumbled  her  off  her  feet.  She 
never  regained  them.  This  was  what  the  onlooking 
huskies  had  waited  for.  They  closed  in  upon  her, 
snarling  and  yelping,  and  she  w^as  buried,  screaming 
with  agony,  beneath  the  bristling  mass  of  bodies.  15 

So  sudden  was  it,  and  so  unexpected,  that  Buck 
was  taken  aback.  He  saw  Spitz  run  out  his  scarlet 
tongue  in  a  w^ay  he  had  of  laughing;  and  he  saw 
Francois,  swinging  an  axe,  spring  into  the  mess  of 
dogs.  Three  men  with  clubs  were  helping  him  to  scat-  20 
ter  them.  It  did  not  take  long.  Two  minutes  from 
the  time  Curly  went  down,  the  last  of  her  assailants 
were  clubbed  off.  But  she  lay  there  limp  and  lifeless 
in  the  bloody,  trampled  snow,  almost  literally  torn  to 
pieces,  the  swart°  half-breed  standing  over  her  and  25 
cursing  horribly.  The  scene  often  came  back  to  Buck 
to  trouble  him  in  his  sleep.  So  that  was  the  way.  No 
f airplay.  Once  down,  that  was  the  end  of  you.  Well, 
he  would  see  to  it  that  he  never  went  down.  Spitz 
ran  out  his  tongue  and  laughed  again,  and  from  that  30 


18  TEE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

moment  Buck  hated  him  with  a  bitter  and  deathless 
hatred. 

Before  he  had  recovered  from  the  shock  caused  by 
the  tragic  passing  of  Curly,  he  received  another  shock. 
5Fran9ois  fastened  upon  him  an  arrangement  of  straps 
and  buckles.  It  was  a  harness,  such  as  he  had  seen 
the  grooms  put  on  the  horses  at  home.  And  as  he 
had  seen  horses  work,  so  he  was  set  to  work,  hauling 
Fran9ois  on  a  sled  to  the  forest  that  fringed  the  valley, 

10  and  returning  with  a  load  of  firewood.  Though  his 
dignity  was  sorely  hurt  by  thus  being  made  a  draugiit 
animal,  he  was  too  wise  to  rebel.  He  buckled  down 
with  a  will  and  did  his  best,  tliough  it  was  all  new  and 
strange.     Franyois  was  stern,  demanding  instant  obedi- 

15  ence,  and  by  virtue  of  his  whip  receiving  instant  obedi- 
ence; while  Dave,  who  was  an  experienced  wheeler,° 
nipped  Buck's  hind  quarters  whenever  he  was  in  error. 
Spitz  was  the  leader,  likewise  experienced,  and  while 
he  could  not  always  get  at  Buck,  he  growled  sharp 

20  reproof  now  and  again,  or  cunningly  threw  his  weight 
in  the  traces  to  jerk  Buck  into  the  way  he  should 
go.  Buck  learned  easily,  and  under  the  combined 
tuition  of  his  two  mates  and  Fran9ois  made  remarkable 
progress.     Ere  they  returned  to  camp  he  knew  enough 

25 to  stop  at  "ho,"  to  go  ahead  at  "mush,"  to  swing 
wide  on  the  bends,  and  to  keep  clear  of  the  wheeler 
when  the  loaded  sled  shot  downhill  at  their  heels. 

"T'ree   vair'    good   dogs,"   Francois   told   Perrault. 
"Dat  Buck,  heem  pool  lak  hell.     I  tich  heem  queek 

30  as  anything." 


THE  LAW  OF  CLUB  AND  FANG  19 

By  afternoon,  Perrault,  who  was  in  a  hurry  to  be 
on  the  trail  with  his  despatches,  returned  with  two 
more  dogs.  "Billce"  and  "Joe"  he  called  them, 
tv/o  brothers,  and  true  huskies  both.  Sons  of  the  one 
mother  though  they  were,  they  were  as  different  as  5 
day  and  night.  Billee's  one  fault  was  his  excessive  good 
nature,  while  Joe  was  the  very  opposite,  sour  and 
introspective,°  with  a  perpetual  snarl  and  a  malignant° 
eye.  Buck  received  them  in  comradely  fashion,  Dave 
ignored  them,  while  Spitz  proceeded  to  thrash  first  lO 
one  and  then  the  other.  Billee  wagged  his  tail  ap- 
peasingly,°  turned  to  run  when  he  saw  that  appeasement 
was  of  no  avail,  and  cried  (still  appeasingly)  when  Spitz's 
sharp  teeth  scored  his  flank.  But  no  matter  how 
Spitz  circled,  Joe  whirled  around  on  his  heels  to  face  15 
him,  mane  bristling,  ears  laid  back,  lips  writhing  and 
snarling,  jaws  clipping  together  as  fast  as  he  could 
snap,  and  eyes  diabolically  gleaming  —  the  incarnation 
of  belligerent  fear.°  So  terrible  was  his  appearance 
that  Spitz  was  forced  to  forego  disciplining  him ;  but  20 
to  cover  his  own  discomfiture  he  turned  upon  the  inof- 
fensive and  wailing  Billee  and  drove  him  to  the  confines 
of  the  camp. 

By  evening  Perrault  secured  another  dog,  an  old 
husky,  long  and  lean  and  gaunt,  with  a  battle-scarred  25 
face  and  a  single  eye  which  flashed  a  warning  of  prow- 
ess that  commanded  respect.  He  was  called  Sol-leks, 
which  means  the  Angry  One.  Like  Dave,  he  asked 
nothing,  gave  nothing,  expected  nothing;  and  when 
he  marched  slowly  and  deliberately  into  their  midst,  30 


20  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

even  Spitz  left  him  alone.  He  had  one  peculiarity 
which  Buck  was  unlucky  enough  to  discover.  He  did 
not  like  to  be  approached  on  his  blind  side.  Of  this 
offence  Buck  was  unwittingly  guilty,  and  the  first 
5  knowledge  he  had  of  his  indiscretion  was  when  Sol-leks 
whirled  upon  him  and  slashed  his  shoulder  to  the  bone 
for  three  inches  up  and  down.  Forever  after  Buck 
avoided  his  blind  side,  and  to  the  last  of  their  comrade- 
ship had  no  more  trouble.     His  only  apparent  ambition, 

10 like  Dave's,  was  to  be  left  alone;  though,  as  Buck 
was  afterward  to  learn,  each  of  them  possessed  one 
other  and  even  more  vital  ambition. 

That  night  Buck  faced  the  great  problem  of  sleep- 
ing.    The  tent,  illumined  by  a  candle,  glowed  warmly 

15  in  the  midst  of  the  white  plain ;  and  when  he,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  entered  it,  both  Perrault  and  Francois 
bombarded  him  with  curses  and  cooking  utensils,  till 
he  recovered  from  his  consternation  and  fled  ignomini- 
ously°  into  .the  outer  cold.     A  chill  wind  was  blowing 

20  that  nipped  him  sharply  and  bit  with  especial  venom 
into  his  wounded  shoulder.  He  lay  down  on  the  snow 
and  attempted  to  sleep,  but  the  frost  soon  drove  him 
shivering  to  his  feet.  Miserable  and  disconsolate,^ 
he  wandered  about  among  the  many  tents,   only  to 

25  find  that  one  place  was  as  cold  as  another.  Here  and 
there  savage  dogs  rushed  upon  him,  but  he  bristled 
his  neck-hair  and  snarled  (for  he  was  learning  fast), 
and  they  let  him  go  his  way  unmolested. 

Finally   an   idea   came   to   him.     He   would   return 

30  and  see  how  his  own  team-mates  were  making  out. 


THE  LAW  OF  CLUB   AND  FANG  21 

To  his  astonishment,  they  had  disappeared.  Again 
he  wandered  about  through  the  great  camp,  looking 
for  them,  and  again  he  returned.  Were  they  in  the 
tent?  No,  that  could  not  be,  else  he  would  not  have 
been  driven  out.  Then  where  could  they  possibly  be  ?  5 
With  drooping  tail  and  shivering  body,  very  forlorn 
indeed,  he  aimlessly  circled  the  tent.  Suddenly  the 
snow  gave  way  beneath  his  fore  legs  and  he  sank  down. 
Something  wriggled  under  his  feet.  He  sprang  back, 
bristling  and  snarling,  fearful  of  the  unseen  and  un-  10 
known.  But  a  friendly  little  yelp  reassured  him,  and 
he  went  back  to  investigate.  A  whiff  of  warm  air 
ascended  to  his  nostrils,  and  there,  curled  up  under 
the  snow  in  a  snug  ball,  lay  Billee.  He  whined  pla- 
catingly,°  squirmed  and  wriggled  to  show  his  good  15 
will  and  intentions,  and  even  ventured,  as  a  bribe  for 
peace,  to  lick  Buck's  face  with  his  warm  wet  tongue. 

Another  lesson.  So  that  was  the  way  they  did  it, 
eh?  Buck  confidently  selected  a  spot,  and  w^ith  much 
fuss  and  waste  effort  proceeded  to  dig  a  hole  for  himself.  20 
In  a  trice  the  heat  from  his  body  filled  the  confined 
space  and  he  w^as  asleep.  The  day  had  been  long  and 
arduous,  and  he  slept  soundly  and  comfortably,  though 
he  growled  and  barked  and  wrestled  w^ith  bad  dreams. 

Nor  did  he  open  his  eyes  till  roused  by  the  noises  of  25 
the  waking  camp.  At  first  he  did  not  know  where  he 
was.  It  had  snowed  during  the  night  and  he  was  com- 
pletely buried.  The  snow  walls  pressed  him  on 
every  side,  and  a  great  surge  of  fear  swept  through 
him  —  the  fear  of  the  wild  thing  for  the  trap.     It  was  30 


22  THE  CALL    OF  THE   WILD 

a  token  that  he  was  harking  back  through  his  own 
life  to  the  lives  of  his  forbears° ;  for  he  was  a  civilized 
dog,  an  unduly  civilized"  dog,  and  of  his  own  experi- 
ence knew  no  trap  and  so  could  not  of  himself  fear  it. 

5  The  muscles  of  his  whole  body  contracted  spasmodi- 
cally and  instinctively,  the  hair  on  his  neck  and  shoul- 
ders stood  on  end,  and  with  a  ferocious  snarl  he 
bounded  straight  up  into  the  blinding  day,  the  snow 
flying  about  him  in  a  flashing  cloud.     Ere  he  landed 

10  on  his  feet,  he  saw  the  white  camp  spread  out  before 
him  and  knew  where  he  was  and  remembered  all  that 
had  passed  from  the  time  he  went  for  a  stroll  with 
Manuel  to  the  hole  he  liad  dug  for  himself  the  night 
before. 

15  A  shout  from  Francois  hailed  his  appearance. 
"Wot  I  say?"  the  dog-driver  cried  to  Perrault.  "Dat 
Buck  for  sure  learn  queek  as  anyt'ing." 

Perrault  nodded  gravely.  As  courier"  for  the 
Canadian  Government,  bearing  important  despatches, 

20  he  was  anxious  to  secure  the  best  dogs,  and  he  was 
particularly  gladdened  by  the  possession  of  Buck. 

Three  more  huskies  were  added  to  the  team  inside 
an  hour,  making  a  total  of  nine,  and  before  another 
quarter  of  an  hour  had  passed  they  were  in  harness 

25  and  swinging  up  the  trail  toward  the  Dyea  Canon. 
Buck  was  glad  to  be  gone,  and  though  the  work  was 
hard  he  found  he  did  not  particularly  despise  it.  He 
was  surprised  at  the  eagerness  which  animated  the 
whole  team,   and  which  was  communicated  to  him; 

30  but  still  more  surprising  was  the  change  wrought  in 


THE  LAW  OF  CLUB  AND  FANG  23 

Dave  and  Sol-leks.  They  were  new  dogs,  utterly 
transformed  by  the  harness.  All  passiveness  and  un- 
concern had  dropped  from  them.  They  were  alert 
and  active,  anxious  that  the  work  should  go  well,  and 
fiercely  irritable  with  whatever,  by  delay  or  confusion,  5 
retarded  that  work.  The  toil  of  the  traces  seemed  the 
supreme  expression  of  their  being,  and  all  that  they 
lived  for  and  the  only  thing  in  which  they  took  delight. 

Dave  was  wheeler  or  sled  dog,  pulling  in  front  of 
him  was  Buck,  then  came  Sol-leks ;    the  rest  of  the  lO 
team  was  strung  out  ahead',  single  file,  to  the  leader, 
which  position  was  filled  by  Spitz. 

Buck  had  been  purposely  placed  between  Dave  and 
Sol-leks  so  that  he  might  receive  instruction.  Apt 
scholar  that  he  was,  they  were  equally  apt  teachers,  15 
never  allowing  him  to  linger  long  in  error,  and  enforcing 
their  teaching  with  their  sharp  teeth.  Dave  was  fair 
and  very  wise.  He  never  nipped  Buck  without  cause, 
and  he  never  failed  to  nip  him  when  he  stood  in  need  of 
it.  As  Francois's  whip  backed  him  up.  Buck  found  it  20 
to  be  cheaper  to  mend  his  ways  than  to  retaliate. 
Once,  during  a  brief  halt,  w^hen  he  got  tangled  in  the 
"traces  and  delayed  the  start,  both  Dave  and  Sol-leks 
flew  at  him  and  administered  a  sound  trouncing.  The 
resulting  tangle  was  even  worse,  but  Buck  took  good  25 
care  to  keep  the  traces  clear  thereafter;  and  ere  the 
day  was  done,  so  well  had  he  -mastered  his  work,  his 
mates  about  ceased  nagging  him.  Francois's  whip 
snapped  less  frequently,  and  Perrault  even  honored  Buck 
by  lifting  up  his  feet  and  carefully  examining  them.       30 


24  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

It  was  a  hard  day's  run,  up  the  Canon,  through 
Sheep  Camp,  past  the  Scales  and  the  timber  Hne,  across 
glaciers  and  snowdrifts  hundreds  of  feet  deep,  and 
over  the  great  Chilcoot  Divide,  which  stands  between 
5  the  salt  water  and  the  fresh  and  guards  forbiddingly  the 
sad  and  lonely  North.  They  made  good  time  down 
the  chain  of  lakes  which  fills  the  craters  of  extinct 
volcanoes,  and  late  that  night  pulled  into  the  huge 
camp  at  the  head  of  Lake  Bennett,  where  thousands 

10  of  gold-seekers  were  building  boats  against  the  breakup 
of  the  ice  in  the  spring.  Buck  made  his  hole  in  the 
snow  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the  exhausted  just,  but  all 
too  early  was  routed  out  in  the  cold  darkness  and 
harnessed  with  his  mates  to  the  sled. 

15  That  day  they  made  forty  miles,  the  trail  being 
packed;  but  the  next  day,  and  for  many  days  to  fol- 
low, they  broke  their  own  trail,  worked  harder,  and 
made  poorer  time.  As  a  rule,  Perrault  travelled  ahead 
of  the  team,  packing  the  snow  with  webbed  shoes  to 

20  make  it  easier  for  them.     Fran9ois,  guiding  the  sled 
at  the  gee-pole,  sometimes  exchanged  places  with  him, 
but  not  often.     Perrault  was  in  a  hurry,  and  he  prided 
himself  on  his  knowledge  of  ice,  which  knowledge  was " 
indispensable,  for  the  fall  ice  was  very  thin,  and  where 

25  there  was  swift  water,  there  was  no  ice  at  all. 

Day  after  day,  for  days  unending.  Buck  toiled  in 
the  traces.  Always,  they  broke  camp  in  the  dark, 
and  the  first  gray  of  dawn  found  them  hitting  the 
trail  with  fresh  miles  reeled  off  behind  them.     And 

30  always  they  pitched  camp  after  dark,  eating  their  bit 


THE  LAW  OF  CLUB  AND  FANG  25 

of  fish,  and  crawling  to  sleep  into  the  snow.  Buck 
was  ravenous.  The  pound  and  a  half  of  sun-dried 
salmon,  which  was  his  ration  for  each  day,  seemed  to 
go  nowhere.  He  never  had  enough,  and  suffered  from 
perpetual  hunger  pangs.  Yet  the  other  dogs,  because  5 
they  weighed  less  and  were  born  to  the  life,  received  a 
pound  only  of  the  fish  and  managed  to  keep  in  good 
condition. 

He  swiftly  lost  the  fastidiousness  which  had  char- 
acterized his  old  life.  A  dainty  eater,  he  found  that  lo 
his  mates,  finishing  first,  robbed  him  of  his  unfinished 
ration.  There  was  no  defending  it.  While  he  was 
fighting  off  two  or  three,  it  was  disappearing  down  the 
throats  of  the  others.  To  remedy  this,  he  ate  as  fast 
as  they ;  and,  so  greatly  did  hunger  compel  him,  he  15 
was  not  above  taking  what  did  not  belong  to  him.  He 
watched  and  learned.  When  he  saw  Pike,  one  of  the 
new  dogs,  a  clever  malingerer  and  thief,  slyly  steal  a 
slice  of  bacon  when  Perrault's  back  was  turned,  he 
duplicated  the  performance  the  following  day,  getting  20 
away  with  the  whole  chunk.  A  great  uproar  was 
raised,  but  he  was  unsuspected;  while  Dub,  an  awk- 
ward blunderer  who  was  always  getting  caught,  was 
punished  for  Buck's  misdeed. 

This  first  theft  marked  Buck  as  fit  to  survive  in  the  25 
hostile  Northland  environment.  It  marked  his  adapt- 
ability, his  capacity  to  adjust  himself  to  changing 
conditions,  the  lack  of  which  would  have  meant  swift 
and  terrible  death.  It  marked,  further,  the  decay  or 
going  to  pieces  of  his  moral  nature,  a  vain  thing  and  a  30 


26  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

handicap  in  the  ruthless  struggle  for  existence.  It 
was  all  v.ell  enough  in  the  Southland,  under  the  law 
of  love  and  fellowship,  to  respect  private  property  and 
personal  feelings ;  but  in  the  Northland,  under  the  law 
5  of  club  and  fang,  whoso  took  such  things  mto  account 
was  a  fool,  and  in  so  far  as  he  observed  them  he  would 
fail  to  prosper. 

Not  that  Buck  reasoned  it  out.     He  was  fit,  that  was 
all,  and  unconsciously  he  accommodated   himseK   to 

10  the  new  mode  of  life.  All  liis  days,  no  matter  what 
the  odds,  he  had  never  run  from  a  fight.  But  the  club 
of  the  man  in  the  red  sweater  had  beaten  into  him  a 
more  fundamental  and  primitive  code.°  Civilized,  he 
could  have  died  for  a  moral   consideration,   say  the 

15 defence  of  Judge  Miller's  riding-whip;  but  the  com- 
pleteness of  his  decivilization°  was  now  evidenced  by 
his  ability  to  flee  from  the  defence  of  a  moral  consider- 
ation°  and  so  save  his  hide.  He  did  not  steal  for  joy 
of  it,  but  because  of  the  clamor  of  his  stomach.     He  did 

20  not  rob  openly,  but  stole  secretly  and  cunningly,  out 
of  respect  for  club  and  fang.  In  short,  the  things  he 
did  were  done  because  it  was  easier  to  do  them  than 
not  to  do  them. 

His  development  (or  retrogression^)  was  rapid.     His 

25  muscles  became  hard  as  iron,  and  he  grew  callous  to 
all  ordinary  pain.  He  achieved  an  internal  as  well  as 
external  economy. °  He  could  eat  anything,  no  matter 
how  loathsome  or  indigestible;  and,  once  eaten,  the 
juices  of  his  stomach    extracted   the  last  particle  of 

30 nutriment;    and  liis  blood  carried  it  to  the  farthest 


THE  LAW  OF  CLUB  AND  FANG  27 

reaches  of  his  body,  building  it  into  the  toughest  and 
stoutest  of  tissues.  Sight  and  scent  became  remarkably 
keen,  while  his  hearing  developed  such  acuteness  that  in 
his  sleep  he  heard  the  faintest  sound  and  knew  whether 
it  heralded  peace  or  peril.  He  learned  to  bite  the  ice  5 
out  with  his  teeth  when  it  collected  between  his  toes ; 
and  when  he  was  thirsty  and  there  was  a  thick  scum  of 
ice  over  the  water  hole,  he  would  break  it  by  rearing 
and  striking  it  with  stiff  fore  legs.  His  most  con- 
spicuous trait  was  an  ability  to  scent  the  wind  and  10 
forecast  it  a  night  in  advance.  No  matter  how  breath- 
less the  air  when  he  dug  his  nest  by  tree  or  bank,  the 
wind  that  later  blew  inevitably  found  him  to  leeward,^ 
sheltered  and  snug. 

And  not  only  did  he  learn  by  experience,  but  instincts  15 
long  dead  became  alive  again.  The  domesticated 
generations  fell  from  him.  In  vague  ways  he  remem- 
bered back  to  the  youth  of  the  breed,  to  the  time  the 
wdld  dogs  ranged  in  packs  through  the  primeval  forest 
and  killed  their  meat  as  they  ran  it  down.  It  was  no  20 
task  for  him  to  learn  to  fight  with  cut  and  slash  and  the 
quick  wolf  snap.  In  this  manner  had  fought  forgotten 
ancestors.  They  quickened  the  old  life  within  him, 
xind  the  old  tricks  which  they  had  stamped  into  the 
heredity  of  the  breed  were  his  tricks.  They  came  to  25 
him  without  effort  or  discovery,  as  though  they  had 
been  his  alwa\^s.  And  when,  on  the  still  cold  nights, 
he  pointed  his  nose  at  a  star  and  howled  long  and  wolf- 
like, it  was  his  ancestors,  dead  and  dust,  pointing  nose 
at  star  and  howling  down  through  the  centuries  and  30 


28  THE  CALL   OF  THE    WILD 

through  him.  And  his  cadences°  were  their  cadences, 
the  cadences  which  voiced  their  woe  and  what  to  them 
was  the  meaning  of  the  stillness,  and  the  cold,  and 
dark. 
5  Thus,  as  token  of  what  a  puppet  thing  life°  is,  the 
ancient  song  surged  through  him  and  he  came  into  his 
own  again ;  and  he  came  because  men  had  found  a 
yellow  metal  in  the  North,  and  because  Manuel  was  a 
gardener's  helper  whose  wages  did  not  lap  over  the 
I0needs°  of  his  wife  and  divers  small  copies  of  himself. 


I 


III 

THE   DOMINANT   PRIMORDIAL   BEAST 

The  dominant  primordial  beast°  was  strong  in  Buck, 
and  under  the  fierce  conditions  of  trail  life  it  grew  and 
grew.  Yet  it  was  a  secret  growth.  His  new-born 
cunning  gave  him  poise  and  control.  He  was  too 
busy  adjusting  himself  to  the  new  life  to  feel  at  ease,  5 
and  not  only  did  he  not  pick  fights,  but  he  avoided 
them  whenever  possible.  A  certain  deliberateness 
characterized  his  attitude.  He  was  not  prone  to  rash- 
ness and  precipitate  action;  and  in  the  bitter  hatred 
between  him  and  Spitz  he  betrayed  no  impatience,  lO 
shunned  all  offensive  acts. 

On  the  other  hand,  possibly  because  he  divined  in 
Buck  a  dangerous  rival,  Spitz  never  lost  an  oppor- 
tunity of  showing  his  teeth.  He  even  went  out  of 
his  way  to  bully  Buck,  striving  constantly  to  start  15 
the  fight  which  could  end  only  in  the  death  of  one  or 
the  other. 

Early  in  the  trip  this  might  have  taken  place  had 
it  not  been  for  an  unwonted  accident.     At  the  end 
of  this  day  they  made  a  bleak  and  miserable  camp  on  20 
the  shore  of  Lake  Le  Barge.     Driving  snow,  a  wind 
that  cut  like  a  white-hot  knife,   and  darkness,   had 

29 


30  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

forced  them  to  grope  for  a  camping  place.  They 
could  hardly  have  fared  worse.  At  their  backs  rose 
a  perpendicular  wall  of  rock,  and  Perrault  and  Fran9ois 
were  compelled  to  make  their  fire  and  spread  their 
5  sleeping  robes  on  the  ice  of  the  lake  itself.  The  tent 
they  had  discarded  at  Dyea  in  order  to  travel  light. 
A  few  sticks  of  driftwood  furnished  them  with  a  fire 
that  thawed  down  through  the  ice  and  left  them  to 
eat  supper  in  the  dark. 

10  Close  in  under  the  sheltering  rock  Buck  made 
his  nest.  So  snug  and  warm  was  it,  that  he  was 
loath  to  leave  it  when  Francois  distributed  the  fish 
which  he  had  first  thawed  over  the  fire.  But  when 
Buck  finished  his  ration  and  returned,  he  found  his 

15  nest  occupied.  A  warning  snarl  told  him  that  the 
trespasser  was  Spitz.  Till  now  Buck  had  avoided 
trouble  with  his  enemy,  but  this  was  too  much.  The 
beast  in  him  roared.  He  sprang  upon  Spitz  with  a 
fury  which  surprised  them  both,  and  Spitz  particularly, 

20  for  his  whole  experience  with  Buck  had  gone  to  teach 
him  that  his  rival  was  an  unusually  timid  dog,  who 
managed  to  Jiold  his  own  only  because  of  his  great 
weight  and  size. 

Fran9ois  was  surprised,    too,   when   they  shot   out 

25  in  a  tangle  from  the  disrupted  nest  and  he  divined 
the  cause  of  the  trouble.  "A-a-ah!"  he  cried  to 
Buck.  "  Gif  it  to  heem,  by  Gar !  Gif  it  to  heem, 
the  dirty  t'eef !" 

Spitz  was  equally  willing.     He  was  crying  with  sheer 

30  rage  and  eagerness  as  he  circled  back  and  forth  for  a 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMORDIAL  BEAST        31 

chance  to  spring  in.  Buck  was  no  less  eager,  and  no 
less  cautious,  as  he  likewise  circled  back  and  forth  for 
the  advantage.  But  it  was  then  that  the  unexpected 
happened,  the  thing  which  projected  their  struggle 
for  supremacy  far  into  the  future,  past  many  a  weary  5 
mile  of  trail  and  toil. 

An  oath  from  Perrault,  the  resounding  impact  of 
a  club  upon  a  bony  frame,  and  a  shrill  yelp  of  pain, 
heralded  the  breaking  forth  of  pandemonium. °  The 
camp  was  suddenly  discovered  to  be  alive  with  skulk-  lo 
ing  furry  forms  —  starving  huskies,  four  or  five  score 
of  them,  who  had  scented  the  camp  from  some  Indian 
village.  They  had  crept  in  while  Buck  and  Spitz 
were  fighting,  and  when  the  two  men  sprang  among 
them  with  stout  clubs  they  showed  their  teeth  and  15 
fought  back.  They  were  crazed  by  the  smell  of  the 
food.  Perrault  found  one  with  head  buried  in  the 
grub-box.  His  club  landed  heavily  on  the  gaunt  ribs, 
and  the  grub-box  was  capsized  on  the  ground.  On 
the  instant  a  score  of  the  famished  brutes  were  scram-  20 
bling  for  the  bread  and  bacon.  The  clubs  fell  upon 
them  unheeded.  They  yelped  and  howled  under  the 
rain  of  blows,  but  struggled  none  the  less  madly  till 
the  last  crumb  had  been  devoured. 

In  the  meantime  the  astonished  team-dogs  had  25 
burst  out  of  their  nests  only  to  ])e  set  upon  by  the 
fierce  invaders.  Never  had  Buck  seen  such  dogs. 
It  seemed  as  though  their  bones  would  burst  through 
their  skins.  They  wtre  mere  skeletons,  draped  loosel}^ 
in  draggled  hides,  with  blazing  eyes  and  slavered  fangs. °  30 


32  THE  CALL    OF   THE    WILD 

But  the  hunger-madness  made  them  terrifying,  irre- 
sistible. There  was  no  opposing  them.  The  team- 
dogs  were  swept  back  against  the  cHff  at  the  first  onset. 
Buck  was  beset  b\'  three  huskies,  and  in  a  trice  his 
5  head  and  shoulders  w^ere  ripped  and  slashed.  The 
din  was  frightful.  Billee  was  crying  as  usual.  Dave 
and  Sol-leks,  dripping  blood  from  a  score  of  wounds, 
were  fighting  bravely  side  by  side.  Joe  was  snapping 
like  a  demon.     Once  his  teeth  closed  on  the  fore  leg 

10  of  a  husky,  and  he  crunched  down  through  the  bone. 
Pike,  the  malingerer,  leaped  upon  the  crippled  ani- 
mal, breaking  its  neck  with  a  quick  flash  of  teeth 
and  a  jerk.  Buck  got  a  frothing  adversary  by  the 
throat,   and  was  sprayed  with  blood  when  his  teeth 

15  sank  through  the  jugular.  The  warm  taste  of  it  in 
his  mouth  goaded  him  to  greater  fierceness.  He 
flung  himself  upon  another,  and  at  the  same  time 
felt  teeth  sink  into  his  own  throat.  It  was  Spitz, 
treacherously  attacking  from  the  side. 

20  Perrault  and  Fran9ois,  having  cleaned  out  their 
part  of  the  camp,  hurried  to  save  their  sled-dogs. 
The  wild  wave  of  famished  beasts  rolled  back  before 
them,  and  Buck  shook  himself  free.  But  it  was  only 
for  a  moment.     The  two  men  were  compelled  to  run 

25  back  to  save  the  grub  ;  upon  which  the  huskies  returned 
to  the  attack  on  the  team.  Billee,  terrified  into  bra- 
very, sprang  through  the  savage  circle  and  fled  away 
over  the  ice.  Pike  and  Dub  followed  on  his  heels, 
with   the   rest   of   the   team   behind.     As   Buck   drew 

3)  himself  together  to  spring  after  them,  out  of  the  tail 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMORDIAL   ^EAST        33 

of  his  eye  he  saw  Spitz  rush  upon  him  with  the  evi- 
dent intention  of  overthrowing  him.  Once  off  his 
feet  and  under  that  mass  of  huskies,  there  was  no 
hope  for  him.  But  he  braced  himself  to  the  shock 
of  Spitz's  charge,  then  joined  the  flight  out  on  the  5 
lake. 

Later,    the   nine   team-dogs   gathered   together   and 
sought    shelter    in    the    forest.     Though    unpursued, 
they  were  in  a  sorry  plight.     There  was  not  one  who 
was  not  wounded  in  four  or  five  places,  while  some  lo 
were   wounded   grievously.     Dub   was    badly    injured 
in  a  hind  leg ;   Dolly,  the  last  husky  added  to  the  team 
at  Dyea,  had  a  badly  torn  throat ;    Joe  had  lost  an 
eye ;  while  Billee,  the  good-natured,  with  an  ear  chewed 
and  rent  to  ribbons,  cried  and  whimpered  throughout  15 
the  night.     At  daybreak  they  limped  warily  back  to 
camp,  to  find  the  marauders  gone  and  the  two  men  in 
bad  tempers.     Fully  half  their  grub  supply  was  gone. 
The   huskies   had   chewed   through   the   sled   lashings 
and   canvas   coverings.     In   fact,   nothing,   no   matter  20 
how  remotely  eatable,  had  escaped  them.     They  had 
eaten    a    pair    of    Perrault's    moose-hide    moccasins, 
chunks  out  of  the  leather  traces,  and  even  two  feet 
of  lash  from  the  end  of  Francois's  whip.     He  broke 
from   a   mournful   contemplation   of   it   to   look   over  25 
his  wounded  dogs. 

**Ah,  my  frien's,"  he  said  softly,  ^'mebbe  it  mek 
you  mad  dog,  dose  many  bites.  Mebbe  all  mad 
dog,  sacredami     Wot  you  t'ink,  eh,  Perrault?" 

The     courier     shook     his     head     dubiously.     With  30 


34  JHE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

four  hundred  miles  of  trail  still  between  him  and  Daw- 
son, he  could  ill  afford  to  have  madness  break  out 
among  his  dogs.  Two  hours  of  cursing  and  exertion 
got  the  harnesses  into  shape,  and  the  wound-stiffened 
5  team  was  under  way,  struggling  painfully  over  the 
hardest  part  of  the  trail  they  had  yet  encountered, 
and  for  that  matter,  the  hardest  between  them  and 
Dawson. 

The  Thirty  Mile  River  was  wide  open.     Its  wild 

10  water  defied  the  frost,  and  it  was  in  the  eddies  only 
and  in  the  quiet  places  that  the  ice  held  at  all.  Six 
days  of  exhausting  toil  were  required  to  cover  those 
thirty  terrible  miles.  And  terrible  they  were,  for 
every  foot  of  them  was  accomplished  at  the  risk  of 

15  life  to  dog  and  man.  A  dozen  times,  Perrault,  nosing 
the  way,  broke  through  the  ice  bridges,  being  saved 
by  the  long  pole  he  carried,  which  he  so  held  that  it 
fell  each  time  across  the  hole  made  by  his  body.  But 
a    cold    snap    was    on,    the    thermometer  registering 

20  fifty  below  zero,  and  each  time  he  broke  through  he 
was  compelled  for  very  life  to  build  a  fire  and  dry  his 
garments. 

Nothing    daunted    him.     It    was    because    nothing 
daunted  him  that  he  had  been  chosen  for  government 

25  courier.  He  took  all  manner  of  risks,  resolutely 
thrusting  his  little  weazened  face  into  the  frost  and 
struggling  on  from  dim  dawn  to  dark.  He  skirted 
the  frowning  shores  on  rim  ice  that  bent  and  crackled 
under  foot  and  upon  which  they  dared  not  halt.     Once, 

30  the  sled  broke  through,  with  Dave  and  Buck,  and  they 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMORDIAL  BEAST        35 

were  half-frozen  and  all  but  drowned  by  the  time  they 
were  dragged  out.  The  usual  fire  was  necessary  to 
save  them.  They  were  coated  solidly  with  ice,  and  the 
two  men  kept  them  on  the  run  around  the  fire,  sweat- 
ing and  thawing,  so  close  that  they  were  singed  by  the  5 
flames. 

At  another  time  Spitz  w^ent  through,  dragging  the 
whole  team  after  him  up  to  Buck,  who  strained  back- 
ward with  all  his  strength,  his  fore  paws  on  the  slip- 
pery edge  and  the  ice  quivering  and  snapping  all  10 
around.  But  behind  him  was  Dave,  likewise  strain- 
ing backward,  and  behind  the  sled  was  Francois, 
pulling  till  his  tendons  cracked. 

Again,  the  rim  ice  broke  away  before  and  behind, 
and  there  was  no  escape  except  up  the  cliff.  Per- 15 
rault  scaled  it  by  a  miracle,  while  Fran9ois  prayed 
for  just  that  miracle;  and  with  every  thong  and 
sled  lashing  and  the  last  bit  of  harness  rove  into  a 
long  rope,  the  dogs  were  hoisted,  one  by  one,  to  the 
cliff  crest.  Fran9ois  came  up  at  last,  after  the  sled  20 
and  load.  Then  came  the  search  for  a  place  to  descend, 
which  descent  was  ultimately  made  by  the  aid  of  the 
rope,  and  night  found  them  back  on  the  river  with 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  day's  credit. 

By  the  time  they  made  the  Hootalinqua  and  good  25 
ice.  Buck  was  played  out.  The  rest  of  the  dogs  were 
in  like  condition ;  but  Perrault,  to  make  up  lost  time, 
pushed  them  late  and  early.  The  first  day  they 
covered  thirty-five  miles  to  the  Big  Salmon ;  the  next 
day  thirty-five  more  to  the  Little  Salmon;    the  third 30 


36  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

day  forty  miles,  which  brought  them  well  up  toward 
the  Five  Fingers. 

Buck's  feet  were  not  so  compact  and  hard  as  the 
feet  of  the  huskies.  His  had  softened  during  the 
5  many  generations  since  the  day  his  last  wild  ancestor 
was  tamed  by  a  cave-dweller  or  river  man.°  All 
day  long  he  limped  in  agony,  and  camp  once  made, 
lay  down  like  a  dead  dog.  Hungry  as  he  was,  he 
would  not  move  to  receive  his  ration  of  fish,  which 

ioFran9ois  had  to  bring  to  him.  Also,  the  dog-driver 
rubbed  Buck's  feet  for  half  an  hour  each  night  after 
supper,  and  sacrificed  the  tops  of  his  own  moccasins 
to  make  four  moccasins  for  Buck.  This  was  a  great 
relief,   and   Buck  caused  even  the  weazened  face  of 

loPerrault  to  twist  itself  into  a  grin  one  morning,  when 
Fran9ois  forgot  the  moccasins  and  Buck  lay  on  his 
back,  his  four  feet  waving  appealingly  in  the  air,  and 
refused  to  budge  without  them.  Later  his  feet  grew 
hard  to  the  trail,  and  the  worn-out  footgear  was  thrown 

20  away. 

At  the  Pelly  one  morning,  as  they  were  harnessing 
up,  Dolly,  who  had  never  been  conspicuous  for  any- 
thing, went  suddenly  mad.  She  announced  her 
condition   by   a  long,   heart-breaking  wolf  howl   that 

25  sent  every  dog  bristling  with  fear,  then  sprang  straight 
for  Buck.  He  had  never  seen  a  dog  go  mad,  nor  did 
he  have  any  reason  to  fear  madness ;  yet  he  knew  that 
here  was  horror,  and  fled  away  from  it  in  a  panic. 
Straight    away    he    raced,    with    Dolly,    panting    and 

30  frothing,  one  leap  behind ;    nor  could  she  gain  on  him, 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMORDIAL   BEAST        37 

so  great  was  his  terror,  nor  could  he  leave  her,  so  great 
was  her  madness.  He  plunged  through  the  wooded 
breast  of  the  island,  flew  down  to  the  lower  end,  crossed 
a  back  channel  filled  with  rough  ice  to  another  island, 
gained  a  third  island,  curved  back  to  the  main  river,  5 
and  in  desperation  started  to  cross  it.  And  all  the 
time,  though  he  did  not  look,  he  could  hear  her  snarling 
just  one  leap  behind.  Fran9ois  called  to  him  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away  and  he  doubled  back,  still  one  leap 
ahead,  gasping  painfully  for  air  and  putting  all  his  10 
faith  in  that  Fran9ois  w^ould  save  him.  The  dog- 
driver  held  the  axe  poised  in  his  hand,  and  as  Buck 
shot  past  him  the  axe  crashed  down  upon  mad  Dolly's 
head. 

Buck   staggered   over   against   the   sled,   exhausted,  15 
sobbing  for  breath,  helpless.     This  was  Spitz's  oppor- 
tunity.    He  sprang  upon  Buck,  and  twice  his  teeth 
sank  into  his  unresisting  foe  and  ripped  and  tore  the  - 
flesh  to  the  bone.     Then  Fran9ois's  lash  descended, 
and  Buck  had  the  satisfaction  of  watching  Spitz  receive  20 
the  worst  whipping  as  yet  administered  to  any  of  the 
team. 

"One  devil,  dat  Spitz,"  remarked  Perrault.     "Some 
dam  day  heem  keel  dat  Buck." 

"Dat  Buck  two  devils,"  was  Francois's  rejoinder.  25 
"  All  de  tam  I  watch  dat  Buck  I  know  for  sure.     Lissen  : 
some  dam  fine  day  heem  get  mad  lak  hell  an'  den  heem 
chew  dat  Spitz  all  up  an'  spit  heem  out  on  de  snow. 
Sure.     I  know." 

From  then  on  it  was  war  between  them.     Spitz,  .30 


38  THE   CALL    OF  THE    WILD 

as  lead-dog  and  acknowledged  master  of  the  team, 
felt  his  supremacy  threatened  by  this  strange  South- 
land dog..  And  strange  Buck  was  to  him,  for  of  the 
many  Southland  dogs  he  had  known,  not  one  had 
5  shown  up  worthily  in  camp  and  on  trail.  They  were 
all  too  soft,  dying  under  the  toil,  the  frost,  and  star- 
vation. Buck  was  the  exception.  He  alone  endured 
and  prospered,  matching  the  husky  in  strength,  sav- 
agery, and  cunning.     Then  he  was  a  masterful  dog, 

10  and  what  made  him  dangerous  was  the  fact  that  the 
club  of  the  man  in  the  red  sweater  had  knocked  all 
blind  pluck  and  rashness  out  of  his  desire  for  mastery. 
He  was  preeminently  cunning,  and  could  bide  his  time 
with  a  patience  that  was  nothing  less  than  primitive. 

15  It  was  inevitable  that  the  clash  for  leadership 
should  come.  Buck  wanted  it.  He  wanted  it  be- 
cause it  was  his  nature,  because  he  had  been  gripped 
tight  by  that  nameless,  incomprehensible  pride  of 
the  trail  and  trace  —  that  pride  which  holds  dogs  in 

20  the  toil  to  the  last  gasp,  which  lures  them  to  die  joy- 
fully in  the  harness,  and  breaks  their  hearts  if  they 
are  cut  out  of  the  harness.  This  was  the  pride  of 
Dave  as  wheel-dog,  of  Sol-leks  as  he  pulled  with 
all  his  strength;    the  pride  that  laid  hold  of  them  at 

25  break  of  camp,  transforming  them  from  sour  and 
sullen  brutes  into  straining,  eager,  ambitious  crea- 
tures; the  pride  that  spurred  them  on  all  da}'  and 
dropped  them  at  pitch  of  camp  at  night,  letting  them 
fall   back   into   gloomy   unrest   and   uncontent.     This 

30  was  the  pride  that  bore  up  Spitz  and  made  him  thi'ash 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMOBDIAL   BEAST        39 

the  sled-dogs  who  bhmdered  and  shirked  in  the  traces 
or  bid  away  at  harness-up  time  in  the  morning.  Like- 
wise it  was  this  pride  that  made  him  fear  Buck  as  a 
possible  lead-dog.     And  this  w^as  Buck's  pride,  too. 

He  openly  threatened  the  other's  leadership.  He  5 
came  between  hira  and  the  shirks  he  should  have 
punished.  And  he  did  it  deliberately.  One  night 
there  was  a  heavy  snowfall,  and  in  the  morning  Pike, 
the  malingerer,"  did  not  appear.  He  was  securely 
hidden  in  his  nest  under  a  foot  of  snow.  rran(;'ois  lO 
called  him  and  sought  him  in  vain.  Spitz  was  wild 
with  wrath.  He  raged  through  the  camp,  smelling 
and  digging  in  every  likely  place,  snarling  so  fright- 
fully that  Pike  heard  and  shivered  in  his  hiding-place. 

But  when  he  was  at  last  unearthed,  and  Spitz  flew  15 
at  him  to  punish  him.  Buck  flew,  with  equal  rage,  in 
between.  So  unexpected  was  it,  and  so  shrewdly 
managed,  that  Spitz  was  hurled  backward  and  off  his 
feet.  Pike,  who  had  been  trembling  abjectly,  took 
heart  at  this  open  mutiny,  and  sprang  upon  his  over- 20 
thrown  leader.  Buck,  to  whom  fairplay  was  a  for- 
gotten code,  likewise  sprang  upon  Spitz.  But  Fran- 
cois, chuckling  at  the  incident  while  unswerving  in 
the  administration  of  justice,  brought  his  lash  down 
upon  Buck  with  all  his  might.  This  failed  to  drive  25 
Buck  from  his  prostrate  rival,  and  the  butt  of  the 
whip  was  brought  into  play.  Half-stunned  by  the 
blow.  Buck  was  knocked  backward  and  the  lash  laid 
upon  him  again  and  again,  while  Spitz  soundly  pun- 
ished the  many  times  offending  Pike.  30' 


40  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

In  the  days  that  followed,  as  Dawson  grew  closer 
and  closer.  Buck  still  continued  to  interfere  between 
Spitz  and  the  culprits;  but  he  did  it  craftily,  when 
Fran9ois  was  not  around.  With  the  covert°  mutiny 
oof  Buck,  a  general  insubordination  sprang  up  and 
increased.  Dave  and  Sol-leks  were  unaffected,  but 
the  rest  of  the  team  went  from  bad  to  worse.  Things 
no  longer  went  right.  There  was  continual  bicker- 
ing  and    jangling.     Trouble    was    always    afoot,   and 

10  at  the  bottom  of  it  was  Buck.  He  kept  Fran9ois 
busy,  for  the  dog-driver  was  in  constant  apprehen- 
sion of  the  life-and-death  struggle  between  the  two 
which  he  knew  must  take  place  sooner  or  later;  and 
on    more    than    one  night  the  sounds  of  quarrelling" 

15  and  strife  among  the  other  dogs  turned  him  out  of 
his  sleeping  robe,  fearful  that  Buck  and  Spitz  were 
at  it. 

But   the   opportunity   did    not   i^resent   itself,    and 
they  pulled  into  Dawson  one  dreary  afternoon  with 

20  the  great  fight  still  to  come.  Here  were  many  men, 
and  countless  dogs,  and  Buck  found  them  all  at  work. 
It  seemed  the  ordained  order  of  things  that  dogs 
should  work.  All  day  they  swung  up  and  down  the 
main  street  in  long  teams,  and  in  the  night  their  jing- 

25  ling  bells  still  went  by.  They  hauled  cabin  logs  and 
firewood,  freighted  up  to  the  mines,  and  did  all  manner 
of  work  that  horses  did  in  the  Santa  Clara  Valley.  Here 
and  there  Buck  met  Southland  dogs,  but  in  the  main 
they  were  the  wild  wolf  husky  breed.     Every  night, 

30  regularly,  at  nine,  at  twelve,  at  three,  they  lifted  a 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMORDIAL  BEAST        41 

nocturnal  song,  a  weird  and  eerie°  chant,  in  which  it 
was  Buck's  deHght  to  join. 

With  the  aurora  boreaHs°  flaming  coldly  overhead, 
or  the  stars  leaping  in  the  frost  dance,  and  the  land 
numb  and  frozen  under  its  pall  of  snow,  this  song  of  5 
the  huskies  might  have  been  the  defiance  of  life,  only 
it  was  pitched  in  minor  key,  with  long-drawn  wailings 
and  half-sobs,  and  was  more  the  pleading  of  life,  the 
articulate  travail  of  existence.°  It  was  an  old  song, 
old  as  the  breed  itself  —  one  of  the  first  songs  of  the  lO 
younger  world  in  a  day  when  songs  were  sad.  It  was 
invested  with  the  woe  of  unnumbered  generations,  this 
plaint  by  which  Buck  was  so  strangely  stirred.  When 
he  moaned  and  sobbed,  it  was  with  the  pain  of  living 
that  was  of  old  the  pain  of  his  wild  fathers,  and  the  15 
fear  and  mystery  of  the  cold  and  dark  that  was  to 
them  fear  and  mystery.  And  that  he  should  be 
stirred  by  it  marked  the  completeness  with  which  he 
harked  back  through  the  ages  of  fire  and  roof  to  the 
raw  beginnings  of  life  in  the  howling  ages.  20 

Seven  days  from  the  time  they  pulled  into  Daw- 
son, they  dropped  down  the  steep  bank  by  the  Bar- 
racks to  the  Yukon  Trail,  and  pulled  for  Dyea  and 
Salt  Water.  Perrault  was  carrying  despatches  if 
anything  more  urgent  than  those  he  had  brought  in ;  25 
also,  the  travel  pride  had  gripped  him,  and  he  purposed 
tx)  make  the  record  trip  of  the  year.  Several  things 
favored  him  in  this.  The  week's  rest  had  recuperated 
the  dogs  and  put  them  in  thorough  trim.  The  trail 
they  had  broken  into  the  country  was  packed  hard  by  30 


42  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

later  journey ers.  And  further,  the  poKce  had  ar- 
ranged in  two  or  three  places  deposits  of  grub  for  dog 
and  man,  and  he  was  travelling  light. 

They  made  Sixty  Mile,  which  is  a  fifty-mile  run,  on 
5 the  first  day;  and  the  second  day  saw  them  booming 
up  the  Yukon  well  on  their  way  to  Pelly.  But  such 
splendid  running  was  achieved  not  without  great 
trouble  and  vexation  on  the  part  of  Fran9ois.  The 
insidious^  revolt  led  by  Buck  had  destroyed  the  soli- 

10  darity°  of  the  team.  It  no  longer  was  as  one  dog  leap- 
ing in  the  traces.  The  encouragement  Buck  gave  the 
rebels  led  them  into  all  kinds  of  petty  misdemeanors. 
No  more  was  Spitz  a  leader  greatly  to  be  feared.  The 
old  awe  departed,  and  they  grew  equal  to  challenging 

15  his  authority.  Pike  robbed  him  of  half  a  fish  one 
night,  and  gulped  it  down  under  the  protection  of 
Buck.  Another  night  Dub  and  Joe  fought  Spitz 
and  made  him  forego  the  punishment  they  deserved. 
And  even  Billee,  the  good-natured,  was  less  good-na- 

20  tured,  and  whined  not  half  so  placatingly  as  in  former 
days.  Buck  never  came  near  Spitz  without  snarling 
and  bristling  menacingly.  In  fact,  his  conduct  ap- 
proached that  of  a  bully,  and  he  was  given  to  swag- 
gering up  and  down  before  Spitz's  very  nose. 

25  The  breaking  dowm  of  discipline  likewise  affected 
the  dogs  in  their  relations  with  one  another.  They 
ciuarrelled  and  bickered"  more  than  ever  amon^ 
themselves,  till  at  times  the  camp  was  a  howling 
bedlam.     Dave    and    Sol-leks    alone    were    unaltered, 

30  though   they   were   made   irritable   by   the    unending 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMORDIAL  BEAST       43 

squabbling.  Fran9ois  swore  strange  barbarous  oaths, 
and  stamped  the  snow  in  futile  rage,  and  tore  his  hair.. 
His  lash  was  always  singing  among  the  dogs,  but 
it  was  of  small  avail.  Directly  his  back  was  turned 
they  were  at  it  again.  He  backed  up  Spitz  with  his  5 
whip,  while  Buck  backed  up  the  remainder  of  the 
team.  Fran9ois  knew  he  was  behind  all  the  trouble^ 
and  Buck  knew  he  knew;  but  Buck  was  too  clever 
ever  again  to  be  caught  red-handed.  He  worked 
faithfully  in  the  harness,  for  the  toil  had  become  a  10 
delight  to  him;  yet  it  was  a  greater  delight  slyly  to 
precipitate  a  fight  amongst  his  mates  and  tangle  the 
traces. 

At   the   mouth   of   the  Tahkeena,   one   night   after 
supper.  Dub  turned  up  a  snowshoe  rabbit,  blundered  15 
it,  and  missed.     In  a  second  the  whole  team  was  in 
full  cry.     A  hundred  yards  away  was  a  camp  of  the 
Northwest  Police,  with  fifty  dogs,   huskies   all,  who 
joined  the  chase.     The  rabbit  sped  down  the  river, 
tm-ned  off  into  a  small  creek,  up  the  frozen  bed  of  20 
which  it  held  steadily.     It  ran  lightly  on  the  surface 
of  the  snow,  while  the  dogs  ploughed  through  by  main 
strength.     Buck  led   the   pack,   sixty   strong,    around 
bend  after  bend,  but  he  could  not  gain.     He  lay  down 
low  to  the  race,  whining  eagerly,  his  splendid  body  25 
flashing  forward,  leap  by  leap,  in  the  wan  white  moon- 
light.    And  leap  by  leap,  like  some  pale  frost  wraith,° 
the  snowshoe  rabbit  flashed  on  ahead. 

All  that  stirring  of  old  ins-tincts  which    at   stated 
periods  drives  men  out  from  the  sounding  cities  to  30 


44  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

forest  and  plain  to  kill  things  by  chemically  propelled 
leaden  pellets,  the  blood  lust,  the  joy  to  kill  —  all 
this  was  Buck's,  only  it  was  infinitely  more  intimate. 
He  was  ranging  at  the  head  of  the  pack,  running  the 
5  wild  thing  down,  the  living  meat,  to  kill  with  his  own 
teeth  and  wash  his  muzzle  to  the  eyes  in  warm  blood. 
There  is  an  ecstasy"  that  marks  the  summit  of  life, 
and  beyond  which  life  cannot  rise.  And  such  is  the 
paradox"  of  living,   this  ecstasy  comes  when  one  is 

10  most  alive,  and  it  comes  as  a  complete  forgetfulness 
that  one  is  alive.  This  ecstasy,  this  forgetfulness  of 
living,  comes  to  the  artist,  caught  up  and  out  of  him- 
self in  a  sheet  of  flame° ;  it  comes  to  the  soldier,  war- 
mad  on  a  stricken  field  and  refusing  quarter;    and  it 

15  came  to  Buck,  leading  the  pack,  sounding  the  old  wolf- 
cry,  straining  after  the  food  that  was  alive  and  that 
fled  swiftly  before  him  through  the  moonlight.  He  was 
sounding  the  deeps  of  his  nature,  and  of  the  parts  of 
his  nature  that  were  deeper  than  he,  going  back  into 

20  the  womb  of  Time.°  He  was  mastered  by  the  sheer 
surging  of  life,  the  tidal  wave  of  being,  the  perfect  joy 
of  each  separate  muscle,  joint,  and  sinew  in  that  it 
was  everything  that  was  not  death,  that  it  was  aglow 
and  rampant,"  expressing  itself  in  movement,  flying 

25  exultantly"  under  the  stars  and  over  the  face  of  dead 
matter  that  did  not  move. 

But  Spitz,  cold  and  calculating  even  in  his  supreme 
moods,"  left  the  pack  and  cut  across  a  narrow  neck 
of  land  where  the  creek  made  a  long  bend  around. 

30  Buck  did  not  know  of  this,  and  as  he  rounded  the 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMORDIAL  BEAST        45 

bend,  the  frost  wraith  of  a  rabbit  still  flitting  before 
him,  he  saw  another  and  larger  frost  wraith  leap  from 
the  overhanging  bank  into  the  immediate  path  of  the 
rabbit.  It  was  Spitz.  The  rabbit  could  not  turn, 
and  as  the  white  teeth  broke  its  back  in  mid  air  its 
shrieked  as  loudly  as  a  stricken  man  may  shriek.  At 
sound  of  this,  the  cry  of  Life  plunging  down  from  Life's 
apex  in  the  grip  of  Death,  the  full  pack  at  Buck's  heels 
raised  a  hell's  chorus  of  delight. 

Buck  did  not  cry  out.  He  did  not  check  himself,  10 
but  drove  in  upon  Spitz,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  so  hard 
that  he  missed  the  throat.  They  rolled  over  and  over 
in  the  powdery  snow.  Spitz  gained  his  feet  almost 
as  though  he  had  not  been  overthrown,  slashing  Buck 
down  the  shoulder  and  leaping  clear.  Twice  his  teeth  15 
clipped  together,  like  the  steel  jaws  of  a  trap,  as  he 
backed  away  for  better  footing,  with  lean  and  lifting 
lips  that  writhed  and  snarled. 

In  a  flash  Buck  knew  it.  The  time  had  come. 
It  was  to  the  death.  As  they  circled  about,  snarl- 20 
ing,  ears  laid  back,  keenly  watchful  for  the  advantage, 
the  scene  came  to  Buck  with  a  sense  of  familiarity. 
He  seemed  to  remember  it  all,  —  the  white  woods, 
and  earth,  and  moonlight,  and  the  thrill  of  battle. 
Over  the  whiteness  and  silence  brooded  a  ghostly  25 
calm.  There  was  not  the  faintest  whisper  of  air  — 
nothing  moved,  not  a  leaf  quivered,  the  visible  breaths 
of  the  dogs  rising  slowly  and  lingering  in  the  frosty 
air.  They  had  made  short  work  of  the  snowshoe 
rabbit,  these  dogs  that  were  ill-tamed  wolves;    and 30 


46  THE  CALL   OF  THE    WILD 

they  were  now  drawn  up  in  an  expectant  circle.  They, 
too,  were  silent,  their  eyes  only  gleaming  and  their 
breaths  drifting  slowly  upward.  To  Buck  it  was  noth- 
ing new  or  strange,  this  scene  of  old  time.  It  was  as 
6  though  it  had  always  been,  the  wonted°  w^ay  of  things. 
Spitz  was  a  practised  fighter.  From  Spitzbergen 
through  the  Arctic,  and  across  Canada  and  the  Bar- 
rens, he  had  held  his  own  with  all  manner  of  dogs 
and  achieved  to  mastery  over  them.     Bitter  rage  was 

10  his,  but  never  blind  rage.  In  passion  to  rend  and 
destroy,  he  never  forgot  that  his  enemy  was  in  like 
passion  to  rend  and  destroy.  He  never  rushed  till 
he  was  prepared  to  receive  a  rush;  never  attacked 
till  he  had  first  defended  that  attack. 

15  In  vain  Buck  strove  to  sink  his  teeth  in  the  neck 
of  the  big  white  dog.  Wherever  his  fangs  struck 
for  the  softer  flesh,  they  were  countered  b}'  the  fangs 
of  Spitz.  Fang  clashed  fang,  and  lips  were  cut  and 
bleeding,  but  Buck  could  not  penetrate  his  enemy's 

20  guard.  Then  he  warmed  up  and  enveloped  Spitz 
in  a  whirlwind  of  rushes.  Time  and  time  again  he 
tried  for  the  snow-white  throat,  where  life  bubbled 
near  to  the  surface,  and  each  time  and  every  time 
Spitz  slashed  him  and  got  away.     Then  Buck  took  to 

25  rushing,  as  though  for  the  throat,  when,  suddenly 
drawing  back  his  head  and  curving  in  from  the  side, 
he  would  drive  his  shoulder  at  the  shoulder  of  Spitz, 
as  a  ram  by  which  to  overthro-sy  him.  But  instead, 
Buck's  shoulder  was  slashed  down  each  time  as  Spitz 

30  leaped  lightly  away. 


THE  DOMINANT  PRIMORDIAL   BEAST        4T 

Spitz  was  untouched,  while  Buck  was  streaming 
with  blood  and  panting  hard.  The  fight  was  grow- 
ing desperate.  And  all  the  while  the  silent  and  wolfish 
circle  waited  to  finish  off  whichever  dog  went  down. 
As  Buck  grew  winded,  Spitz  took  to  rushing,  and  he  5 
kept  him  staggering  for  footing  Once  Buck  went 
over,  and  the  whole  circle  of  sixty  dogs  started  up ; 
but  he  recovered  himself,  almost  in  mid  air,  and  the 
circle  sank  down  again  and  waited. 

But    Buck    possessed    a    quality    that    made    for  lO 
greatness  —  imagination.     He     fought     by     instinct," 
but  he  could  fight  by  head  as  well.     He  rushed,  as 
though  attempting  the  old  shoulder  trick,  but  at  the 
last  instant  swept  low  to  the  snow  and  in.     His  teeth 
closed  on  Spitz's  left  fore  leg.     There  was  a  crunch  of  15 
breaking  bone,  and  the  white  dog  faced  him  on  three 
legs.     Thrice  he  tried  to  knock  him  over,  then  repeated 
the  trick  and  broke  the  right  fore  leg.     Despite  the 
pain  and  helplessness.  Spitz  struggled  madly  to  keep 
up.     He  saw  the  silent  circle,  with  gleaming  eyes,  loll- 20 
ing  tongues,  and  silver}^  breaths  drifting  upward,  clos- 
ing in  upon  him  as  he  had  seen  similar  circles  close  in 
upon  beaten  antagonists  in  the  past.     Only  this  time 
he  was  the  one  who  was  beaten. 

There  was  no  hope  for  him.  Buck  was  inexorable. °  25 
Mercy  was  a  thing  reserved  for  gentler  climes.  He 
manoeuvred  for  the  final  rush.  The  circle  had  tight- 
ened till  he  could  feel  the  breaths  of  the  huskies  on 
his  flanks.  He  could  see  them,  beyond  Spitz  and  to 
either  side,  half  crouching  for  the  spring,  their  eyes  30 


48  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

fixed  upon  him.  A  pause  seemed  to  fall.  Every  ani- 
mal was  motionless  as  though  turned  to  stone.  Only 
Spitz  quivered  and  bristled  as  he  staggered  back  and 
forth,  snarling  with  horrible  menace,  as  though  to 
5  frighten  off  impending  death.  Then  Buck  sprang 
in  and  out;  but  while  he  was  in,  shoulder  had  at^ 
last  squarely  met  shoulder.  The  dark  circle  became 
a  dot  on  the  moon-flooded  snow  as  Spitz  disappeared 
from  view.  Buck  stood  and  looked  on,  the  successful 
10  champion,  the  dominant  primordial  beast  who  had 
made  his  kill  and  found  it  good. 


IV 

WHO   HAS   WON   TO    MASTERSHIP 

"  Eh  ?     Wot  I  say  ?     I  spik  true  w'en  I  say  dat  Buck 
two  devils." 

This  was  Francois's  speech  next  morning  when  he 
discovered    Spitz    missing    and    Buck    covered    with 
wounds.     He  drew  him  to  the  fire  and  by  its  Hght5 
pointed  them  out. 

"Dat   Spitz   fight   lak   hell,"   said   Perrault,   as   he 
surveyed  the  gaping  rips  and  cuts. 

"An'  dat  Buck  fight  lak  two  hells,"  was  Francois's 
answer.     "  An'   now  we  make  good   time.     No  more  10 
Spitz,  no  more  trouble,  sure." 

While  Perrault  packed  the  camp  outfit  and  loaded 
the  sled,  the  dog-driver  proceeded  to  harness  the  dogs. 
Buck  trotted  up  to  the  place  Spitz  w^ould  have  occupied 
as  leader ;  but  Francois,  not  noticing  him,  brought  15 
Sol-leks  to  the  coveted  position.  In  his  judgment,  Sol- 
leks  was  the  best  lead-dog  left.  Buck  sprang  upon 
Sol-leks  in  a  fury,  driving  him  back  and  standing  in 
his  place. 

"Eh?     eh?"    Francois    cried,    slapping    his    thighs  20 
gleefully.     "Look    at    dat    Buck.     Heem    keel    dat 
Spitz,  heem  t'ink  to  take  de  job." 
E  49 


50  THE  CALL    OF  THE   WILD 

"Go  'way,  Chook!"  he  cried,  but  Buck  refused  to 
budge. 

He  took  Buck  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck,  and  though 
the  dog  growled   threateningly,   dragged  him   to  one 

5  side  and  replaced  Sol-leks.  The  old  dog  did  not  like 
it,  and  showed  plainly  that  he  was  afraid  of  Buck. 
Fran9ois  was  obdurate,  but  when  he  turned  his  back, 
Buck  again  displaced  Sol-leks,  who  was  not  at  all  un- 
willing to  go. 

10  Francois  was  angry.  "  Now,  by  Gar,  I  feex  you  ! " 
he  cried,  coming  back  with  a  heavy  club  in  his  hand. 

Buck  remembered  the  man  in  the  red  sweater,  and 
retreated  slowly ;  nor  did  he  attempt  to  charge  in  when 
Sol-leks    was    once    more    brought    forward.     But    he 

15  circled  just  beyond   the  range   of  the   club,   snarling 
with   bitterness   and   rage;    and   while   he   circled   he 
watched  the  club  so  as  to  dodge  it  if  thrown  by  Fran- 
cois, for  he  was  become  wise  in  the  way  of  clubs. 
The   driver   went   about   his   work,    and    he   called 

20  to  Buck  when  he  was  ready  to  put  him  in  his  old 
place  in  front  of  Dave.  Buck  retreated  two  or  three 
steps.  Francois  followed  him  up,  whereupon  he  again 
retreated.  After  some  time  of  this,  Francois  threw 
down  the  club,  thinking  that  Buck  feared  a  thrashing. 

25  But  Buck  was  in  open  revolt.  He  wanted,  not  to 
escape  a  clubbing,  but  to  have  the  leadership.  It 
was  his  by  right.  He  had  earned  it,  and  he  would  not 
be  content  wdth  less. 

Perrault    took    a    hand.     Between    them    they    ran 

30  him    about   for   the   better   part   of   an   hour.     They 


WHO  HAS    WON   TO  MASTERSHIP  51 

threw  clubs  at  him.  He  dodged.  They  cursed  him, 
and  his  fathers  and  mothers  before  him,  and  all  his 
seed  to  come  after  him  down  to  the  remotest  genera- 
tion, and  every  hair  on  his  body  and  drop  of  blood  in 
his  veins ;  and  he  answered  curse  with  snarl  and  5 
kept  out  of  their  reach.  He  did  not  try  to  run  away, 
but  retreated  around  and  around  the  camp,  advertising 
plainly  that  when  his  desire  was  met,  he  would  come 
in  and  be  good. 

Francois   sat  down  and   scratched  his   head.     Per-  lo 
rault    looked    at    his    watch    and    swore.     Time    was 
flying,   and   they   should   have   been   on   the   trail   an 
hour  gone.     Francois  scratched  his  head  again.     He 
shook  it  and  grinned  sheepishly"  at  the  courier,  who 
shrugged  his  shoulders  in  sign  that  they  were  beaten.  15 
Then  Francois  went  up  to  where  Sol-leks  stood  and 
called   to   Buck.     Buck   laughed,   as   dogs   laugh,   yet 
kept    his    distance.     Francois    unfastened     Sol-leks's 
traces  and  put  him  back  in  his  old  place.     The  team 
stood  harnessed  to  the  sled  in  an  unbroken  line,  ready  20 
for  the  trail.     There  was  no  place  for  Buck  save  at 
the  front.     Once  more  Fran9ois  called,  and  once  more 
Buck  laughed  and  kept  away. 

"T'row  down  de  club,"  Perrault  commanded. 

Fran9ois    complied,    whereupon    Buck    trotted    in,  25 
laughing   triumphantly,  and    swung  around    into    po- 
sition   at    the    head    of   the    team.     His    traces    were 
fastened,   the   sled   broken   out,    and   with   both   men 
running  they  dashed  out  on  to  the  river  trail. 

Higlily    as    the    dog-driver    had    forevalued    Buck,  30 


52  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

with  his  two  devils,  he  found,  while  the  day  was  yet 
young,  that  he  had  undervalued.  At  a  bound  Buck 
took  up  the  duties  of  leadership  ;  and  where  judgment 
was  required,  and  quick  thinking  and  quick  acting,  he 

5  showed  himself  the  superior  even  of  Spitz,  of  whom 
Francois  had  never  seen  an  equal. 

But  it  was  in  giving  the  law  and  making  his  mates 
live  up  to  it,  that  Buck  excelled.  Dave  and  Sol- 
leks  did  not  mind  the  change  in  leadership.     It  was 

10  none  of  their  business.  Their  business  was  to  toil, 
and  toil  mightily,  in  the  traces.  So  long  as  that 
were  not  interfered  with,  they  did  not  care  what  hap- 
pened. Billee,  the  good-natured,  could  lead  for  all 
they  cared,   so  long  as  he  kept  order.     The  rest  of 

15  the  team,  however,  had  grown  unruly  during  the 
last  days  of  Spitz,  and  their  surprise  was  great  now 
that  Buck  proceeded  to  lick  them  into  shape. 

Pike,  who  pulled  at  Buck's  heels,  and  who  never 
put  an  ounce  more  of  his  weight  against  the  breast- 

20  band  than  he  was  compelled  to  do,  was  swiftly  and 
repeatedly  shaken  for  loafing;  and  ere  the  first  day 
was  done  he  was  pulling  more  than  ever  before  in 
his  life.  The  first  night  in  camp,  Joe,  the  sour  one, 
was    punished    roundly  —  a    thing    that    Spitz    had 

25  never  succeeded  in  doing.  Buck  sim.ply  smothered 
him  by  virtue  of  superior  weight,  and  cut  him  up  till 
he  ceased  snapping  and  began  to  whine  for  mercy. 

The  general  tone  of  the  team  picked  up  immedi- 
ately.    It  recovered  its  old-time  solidarity,  and  once 

30  more  the  dogs  leaped  as  one  dog  in  the  traces.     At  the 


WHO  HAS   WON  TO  MASTERSHIP  53 

Rink  Rapids  two  native  huskies,  Teek  and  Koona, 
were  added ;  and  the  celerity  with  which  Buck  broke 
them  in  took  aw^ay  Francois's  breath. 

"  Nevaire   such   a   dog    as    dat    Buck ! "    he   cried. 
"  No,  nevaire !     Heem  worth  one  t'ousan'  dollair,  by  5 
Gar!     Eh?     Wot  you  say,  Perrault?" 

And  Perrault  nodded.  He  was  ahead  of  the  record 
then,  and  gaining  day  by  day.  The  trail  was  in 
excellent  condition,  well  packed  and  hard,  and  there 
was  no  new-fallen  snow  with  which  to  contend.  It  10 
was  not  too  cold.  The  temperature  dropped  to  fifty 
below  zero  and  remained  there  the  whole  trip.  The 
men  rode  and  ran  by  turn,  and  the  dogs  were  kept  on 
the  jump,  with  but  infrequent  stoppages. 

The  Thirty  Mile  River  was  comparatively  coated  15 
with  ice,  and  they  covered  in  one  day  going  out  what 
had  taken  them  ten  days  coming  in.  In  one  run  thej^ 
made  a  sixty-mile  dash  from  the  foot  of  Lake  Le  Barge 
to  the  White  Horse  Rapids.  Across  Marsh,  Tagish, 
and  Bennett  (seventy  miles  of  lakes),  they  flew  so  20 
fast  that  the  man  whose  turn  it  was  to  run  towed 
behind  the  sled  at  the  end  of  a  rope.  And  on  the  last 
night  of  the  second  week  they  topped  White  Pass  and 
dropped  down  the  sea  slope  with  the  lights  of  Skaguay 
and  of  the  shipping  at  their  feet.  25 

It  was  a  record  run.  Each  day  for  fourteen  days 
they  had  averaged  forty  miles.  For  three  days  Per- 
rault and  Francois  threw  chests°  up  and  down  the  main 
street  of  Skaguay  and  were  deluged  with  invitations  to 
drink,  while  the  team  was  the  constant  centre  of  a  30 


"54  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

worshipful  crowd  of  dog-busters  and  mushers.°  Then 
three  or  foui*  western  bad  men  aspired  to  clean  out  the 
town,  were  riddled  like  pepper-boxes  for  their  pains, 
and  public  interest  turned  to  other  idols.  Next  came 
5  official  orders.  Fran9ois  called  Buck  to  him,  threw  his 
arms  around  him,  wept  over  him.  And  that  was  the 
last  of  Francois  and  Perrault.  Like  other  men,  they 
passed  out  of  Buck's  life  for  good. 

A   Scotch  half-breed   took  charge  of  him   and   his 

10  mates,  and  in  company  with  a  dozen  other  dog-teams 
he  started  back  o^er  the  weary  trail  to  Dawson.  It 
was  no  light  running  now,  nor  record  time,  but  heavy 
toil  each  day,  with  a  heavy  load  behind ;  for  this  was 
the  mail  train,  carrying  word  from  the  world  to  the 

15  men  who  sought  gold  under  the  shadow  of  the  Pole. 

Buck  did  not  like  it,  but  he  bore  up  well  to  the 

work,   taking  pride  in  it  after  the  manner  of  Dave 

and    Sol-leks,    and    seeing    that    his    mates,    whether 

they   prided   in   it   or   not,    did   their   fair   share.     It 

20  was  a  monotonous  life,  operating  with  machine-like 
regularity.  One  day  was  very  like  another.  At 
a  certain  time  each  morning  the  cooks  turned  out, 
fires  were  built,  and  breakfast  was  eaten.  Then, 
while  some  broke  camp,   others  harnessed  the  dogs, 

25  and  they  were  under  way  an  hour  or  so  before  the 
darkness  fell  which  gave  warning  of  dawn.  At  night, 
camp  was  made.  Some  pitched  the  flies,  others  cut 
firewood  and  pine  boughs  for  the  beds,  and  still  others 
carried  water  or  ice  for  the  cooks.     Also,  the  dogs  were 

30  fed.     To  them,  this  was  the  one  feature  of  the  day, 


WHO   HAS    }VON   TO   MASTERSHIP  55 

though  it  was  good  to  loaf  around,  after  the  fish  was 
eaten,  for  an  hour  or  so  with  the  other  dogs,  of  which 
there  were  fivescore  and  odd.  There  were  fierce  fighters 
among  them,  but  three  battles  with  the  fiercest  brought 
Buck  to  mastery,  so  that  when  he  bristled  and  showed  5 
his  teeth,  they  got  out  of  his  way. 

Best  of  all,  perhaps,  he  loved  to  lie  near  the  fire, 
hind  legs  crouched  under  him,  fore  legs  stretched 
out  in  front,  head  raised,  and  eyes  blinking  dreamily 
at  the  flames.  Sometimes  he  thought  of  Judge  10 
Miller's  big  house  in  the  sun-kissed  Santa  Clara 
Valley,  and  of  the  cement  swimming-tank,  and  Ysabel, 
the  Mexican  hairless,  and  Toots,  the  Japanese  pug; 
but  oftener  he  remembered  the  man  in  the  red  sweater, 
the  death  of  Curly,  the  great  fight  with  Spitz,  and  the  15 
good  things  he  had  eaten  or  would  like  to  eat.  He  was 
not  homesick.  The  Sunland  was  very  dim  and  dis- 
tant, and  such  memories  had  no  power  over  him. 
Far  more  potent  were  the  memories  of  his  heredity 
that  gave  things  he  had  never  seen  before  a  seeming  20 
familiarity;  the  instincts  (which  were  but  the  mem- 
ories of  his  ancestors  become  habits)  which  had  lapsed° 
in  later  days,  and,  still  later,  in  him,  quickened  and 
became  alive  again. 

Sometimes  as  he  crouched  there,  blinking  dreamily  25 
at  the  flames,  it  seemed  that  the  flames  were  of  an- 
other fire,  and  that  as  he*  crouched  by  this  other  fire 
he  saw  another  and  different  man  from  the  half-breed 
cook  before  him.  This  other  man  was  shorter  of  leg 
and  longer  of  arm,  with  muscles  that  were  stringy  and  30 


56  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

knotty  rather  than  rounded  and  swelhng.  The  hair  of 
this  man  was  long  and  matted,  and  his  head  slanted 
back  under  it  from  the  eyes.  He  uttered  strange 
sounds,  and  seemed  very  much  afraid  of  the  darkness, 
5  into  which  he  peered  continually,  clutching  in  his  hand, 
which  hung  midway  between  knee  and  foot,  a  stick 
with  a  heavy  stone  made  fast  to  the  end.  He  was 
all  but  naked,  a  ragged  and  fire-scorched  skin  hanging 
part  way  down  his  back,  but  on  his  body  there  was 

10  much  hair.  In  some  places,  across  the  chest  and 
shoulders  and  down  the  outside  of  the  arms  and 
thighs,  it  was  matted  into  almost  a  thick  fur.  He 
did  not  stand  erect,  but  with  trunk  inclined  forward 
from  the  hips,  on  legs  that  bent  at  the  knees.     About 

15  his  body  there  was  a  peculiar  springiness,  or  resiliency, 
almost  catlike,  and  a  quick  alertness  as  of  one  who 
lived  in  perpetual  fear  of  things  seen  and  unseen. 

At  other  times  this  hairy  man  squatted  by  the  fire 
with  head  between  his  legs  and  slept.     On  such  oc- 

20  casions  his  elbows  were  on  his  knees,  his  hands  clasped 
above  his  head  as  though  to  shed  rain  by  the  hairy 
arms.  And  beyond  that  fire,  in  the  circling  darkness. 
Buck  could  see  many  gleaming  coals,  two  by  two, 
always  two  by  two,  which  he  knew  to  be  the  eyes  of 

25  great  beasts  of  prey.  And  he  could  hear  the  crashing 
of  their  bodies  through  the  undergrowth,  and  the 
noises  they  made  in  the  night.  And  dreaming  there 
by  the  Yukon  bank,  with  lazy  eyes  blinking  at  the  fire, 
these  sounds  and  sights  of  another  world  would  make 

30  the  hair  to  rise  along  his  back  and  stand  on  end  across 


WHO  HAS    WON   TO  MASTERSHIP  57 

his  shoulders  and  up  his  neck,  till  he  whimpered  low 
and  suppressedly,  or  growled  softly,  and  the  half- 
breed  cook  shouted  at  him,  "Hey,  you  Buck,  wake 
up!"  Whereupon  the  other  world  would  vanish  and 
the  real  world  come  into  his  eyes,  and  he  would  get  up  5 
and  yawn  and  stretch  as  though  he  had  been  asleep. 

It  was  a  hard  trip,  with  the  mail  behind  them,  and 
the  heavy  work  wore  them  down.  They  were  short  of 
weight  and  in  poor  condition  when  they  made  Dawson, 
and  should  have  had  a  ten  days'  or  a  week's  rest  at  lo 
least.  But  in  two  days'  time  they  dropped  down  the 
Yukon  bank  from  the  Barracks,  loaded  with  letters 
for  the  outside.  The  dogs  were  tired,  the  drivers 
grumbling,  and  to  make  matters  worse,  it  snowed 
every  day.  This  meant  a  soft  trail,  greater  friction  15 
on  the  runners,  and  heavier  pulling  for  the  dogs ;  yet 
the  drivers  were  fair  through  it  all,  and  did  their  best 
for  the  animals. 

Each  night  the  dogs  were  attended  to  first.  They 
ate  before  the  drivers  ate,  and  no  man  sought  his  sleep-  20 
ing-robe  till  he  had  seen  to  the  feet  of  the  dogs  he  drove. 
Still,  their  strength  went  down.  Since  the  beginning 
of  the  winter  they  had  travelled  eighteen  hundred 
miles,  dragging  sleds  the  whole  weary  distance;  and 
eighteen  hundred  miles  will  tell  upon  life  of  the  tough- 25 
est.  Buck  stood  it,  keeping  his  mates  up  to  their 
work  and  maintaining  discipline,  though  he  too  was 
very  tired.  Billee  cried  and  whimpered  regularly  in 
his  sleep  each  night.  Joe  was  sourer  than  ever,  and 
Sol-leks  was  unapproachable,  blind  side  or  other  side.  30 


58  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

But  it  was  Dave  who  suffered  most  of  all.  Some- 
thing had  gone  wrong  with  him.  He  became  more 
morose  and  irritable,  and  when  camp  was  pitched, 
at  once  made  his  nest,  where  his  driver  fed  him. 
5  Once  out  of  the  harness  and  down,  he  did  not  get 
on  his  feet  again  till  harness-up  time  in  the  morning. 
Sometimes,  in  the  traces,  when  jerked  by  a  sudden 
stoppage  of  the  sled,  or  by  straining  to  start  it,  he 
would     cry     out    with    pain.     The    driver    examined 

10  him,  but  could  find  nothing.  All  the  drivers  became 
interested  in  his  case.  They  talked  it  over  at  meal- 
time, and  over  their  last  pipes  before  going  to  bed,  and 
one  night  they  held  a  consultation.  He  was  brought 
from  his  nest  to  the  fire  and  was  pressed  and  prodded 

15  till  he  cried  out  many  times.  Something  was  wrong 
inside,  but  they  could  locate  no  broken  bones,  could 
not  make  it  out. 

By  the  time  Cassiar  Bar  was  reached,  he  was  so 
weak   that   he   was   falling   repeatedly   in   the   traces. 

20  The  Scotch  half-breed  called  a  halt  and  took  him  out  of 
the  team,  making  the  next  dog,  Sol-leks,  fast  to  the 
sled.  His  intention  was  to  rest  Dave,  letting  him 
run  free  behind  the  sled.  Sick  as  he  was,  Dave 
resented  being  taken  out,  grunting  and  growling  while 

25  the  traces  were  unfastened,  and  whimpering  broken- 
heartedly  when  he  saw  Sol-leks  in  the  position  he  had 
held  and  served  so  long.  For  the  pride  of  trace  and 
trail  was  his,  and,  sick  unto  death,  he  could  not  bear 
that  another  dog  should  do  his  work. 

30     When  the  sled  started,  he  floundered  in  the  soft 


WHO  HAS    WON   TO  MASTERSHIP  59 

snow  alongside  the  beaten  trail,  attacking  Sol-leks 
with  his  teeth,  rushing  against  him  and  trying  to 
thrust  him  off  into  the  soft  snow  on  the  other  side, 
striving  to  leap  inside  his  traces  and  get  between 
him  and  the  sled,  and  all  the  while  whining  and  yelping  5 
and  crying  with  grief  and  pain.  The  half-breed  tried 
to  drive  him  away  with  the  whip ;  but  he  paid  no  heed 
to  the  stinging  lash,  and  the  man  had  not  the  heart 
to  strike  harder.  Dave  refused  to  run  quietly  on  the 
trail  behind  the  sled,  where  the  going  was  easy,  but  10 
continued  to  flounder  alongside  in  the  soft  snow,  where 
the  going  was  most  difficult,  till  exhausted.  Then  he 
fell,  and  lay  where  he  fell,  howling  lugubriously  as  the 
long  train  of  sleds  churned  by. 

With  the  last  remnant  of  his  strength  he  managed  15 
to  stagger  along  behind   till  the  train  made  another 
stop,  when  he  floundered  past  the  sleds  to  his  own, 
where  he  stood  alongside  Sol-leks.     His  driver  lingered 
a  moment  to  get  a  light  for  his  pipe  from  the  man 
behind.     Then    he    returned    and    started    his    dogs.  20 
They  swung  out  on  the  trail  with  remarkable  lack  of 
exertion,    turned   their   heads   uneasily,    and   stopped 
in  surprise.     The  driver  was  surprised,  too;    the  sled 
had  not  moved.     He  called  his  comrades   to  witness 
the  sight.     Dave  had  bitten  through  both  of  Sol-leks's  25 
traces,  and  was  standing  directly  in  front  of  the  sled 
in  his  proper  place. 

He  pleaded  with  his  eyes  to  remain  there.  The 
driver  was  perplexed.  His  comrades  talked  of  how 
a  dog  could  break  its  heart  through  being  denied  the  30 


60  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

work  that  killed  it,  and  recalled  instances  the}'  had 
known,  where  dogs,  too  old  for  the  toil,  or  injured, 
had  died  because  they  were  cut  out  of  the  traces. 
Also,  they  held  it  a  mercy,  since  Dave  was  to  die 
5  anyway,  that  he  should  die  in  the  traces,  heart- 
easy  and  content.  So  he  was  harnessed  in  again, 
and  proudly  he  pulled  as  of  old,  though  more  than 
once  he  cried  out  involuntarily  from  the  bite  of 
his    inward    hurt.       Several   times   he  fell  down    and 

10  was  dragged  in  the  traces,  and  once  the  sled  ran 
upon  him  so  that  he  limped  thereafter  in  one  of  his 
hind  legs. 

But  he  held  out  till  camp  was  reached,  when  his 
driver  made   a  place  for  him  by   the  fire.     Morning 

15  found  him  too  weak  to  travel.  At  harness-up  time 
he  tried  to  crawl  to  his  driver.  By  convulsive  efforts 
he  got  on  his  feet,  staggered,  and  fell.  Then  he 
wormed  his  way  forward  slowly  toward  where  the 
harnesses  were   being  put   on  his   mates.     He  would 

20  advance  his  fore  legs  and  drag  up  his  body  with  a 
sort  of  hitching  movement,  when  he  would  advance 
his  fore  legs  and  hitch  ahead  again  for  a  few  miore 
inches.  His  strength  left  him,  and  the  last  his  mates 
saw  of  him  he  lay  gasping  in  the  snow  and  yearning° 

25  toward  them.  But  they  could  hear  him  mournfully 
howling  till  they  passed  out  of  sight  behind  a  belt  of 
river  timber. 

Here  the  train  was  halted.     The  Scotch  half-breed 
slowly  retraced  his  steps  to  the  camp  they  had  left. 

30  The  men  ceased  talking.     A  revolver-shot  rang  out. 


I 


WHO  HAS    WON   TO  MASTERSHIP  61 


The  man  came  back  hurriedly.  The  whips  snapped, 
the  bells  tinkled  merrily,  the  sleds  churned  along 
the  trail;  but  Buck  knew,  and  every  dog  knew, 
what    had    taken    place    behind    the    belt    of    river 

trees. 


THE  TOIL  OF  TRACE  AND  TRAIL 

Thirty  days  from  the  time  it  left  Dawson,  the  Salt 
Water  Mail,  with  Buck  and  his  mates  at  the  fore, 
arrived  at  Skaguay.  They  were  in  a  wretched  state, 
worn  out  and  worn  down.     Buck's  one  hundred  and 

5  forty  pounds  had  dwindled  to  one  hundred  and  fifteen. 
The  rest  of  his  mates,  though  lighter  dogs,  had  relatively 
lost  more  weight  than  he.  Pike,  the  malingerer,  who, 
in  his  lifetime  of  deceit,  had  often  successfully  feigned 
a  hurt  leg,  was  now  limping  in  earnest.     Sol-leks  was 

10  limping,  and  Dub  was  suffering  from  a  v/renched 
shoulder-blade. 

They  were  all  terribly  footsore.  No  spring  or  re- 
bound was  left  in  them.  Their  feet  fell  heavily  on 
the  trail,  jarring  their  bodies  and  doubling  the  fatigue 

15  of  a  day's  travel.  There  was  nothing  the  matter  with 
them  except  that  they  were  dead  tired.  It  was  not 
the  dead  tiredness  that  comes  through  brief  and  exces- 
sive effort,  from  which  recovery  is  a  matter  of  hours ; 
but  it  was  the  dead  tiredness  that  comes  through  the 

20  slow  and  prolonged  strength  drainage  of  months  of 
toil.     There  was   no   power   of   recuperation   left,   no 

62 


THE  TOIL   OF  TRACE  AND   TRAIL  63 

reserve  strength  to  call  upon.  It  had  been  all  used,  the 
last  least  bit  of  it.  Every  muscle,  every  fibre,  every 
cell,  was  tired,  dead  tired.  And  there  was  reason  for 
it.  In  less  than  five  months  they  had  travelled  twenty- 
five  hundred  miles,  during  the  last  eighteen  hundreds 
of  which  they  had  had  but  five  days'  rest.  When  they 
arrived  at  Skaguay,  they  were  apparently  on  their  last 
legs.  They  could  barely  keep  the  traces  taut,  and  on 
the  down  grades  just  managed  to  keep  out  of  the  way 
of  the  sled.  lo 

"Mush  on,  poor  sore  feets,"  the  driver  encouraged 
them  as  they  tottered  down  the  main  street  of  Skag- 
uay. "Dis  is  de  las'.  Den  we  get  one  long  res'. 
Eh?     For  sure.     One  bully  long  res'." 

The  drivers  confidently  expected  a  long  stopover.  15 
Themselves,  they  had  covered  twelve  hundred  miles 
with  two  days'  rest,  and  in  the  nature  of  reason  and 
common  justice  they  deserved  an  interval  of  loafing. 
But   so   many   were   the   men   who   had   rushed   into 
the    Klondike,    and   so    many   were    the   sweethearts,  20 
wives,  and  kin  that  had  not  rushed  in,  that  the  con- 
gested mail  was  taking  on  Alpine  proportions ;  also, 
there  were  official  orders.     Fresh  batches  of  Hudson 
Bay  dogs  were  to  take  the  places  of  those  worthless  for 
the  trail.     The  worthless  ones  were  to  be  got  rid  of,  and,  25 
since  dogs  count  for  little  against  dollars,  they  were  to 
be  sold. 

Three  days  passed,  by  which  time  Buck  and  his 
mates  found  how  really  tired  and  weak  they  were. 
Then,  on  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  two  men  30 


64  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

from  the  States  came  along  and  bought  them,  har- 
ness and  all,  for  a  song.  The  men  addressed  each 
other  as  "Hal"  and  "Charles."  Charles  was  a 
middle-aged,    lightish-colored    man,    with    weak    and 

5  watery  eyes  and  a  mustache  that  twisted  fiercely 
and  vigorously  up,  giving  the  lie  to  the  limply  droop- 
ing lip  it  concealed.  Hal  was  a  youngster  of  nineteen 
or  twenty,  with  a  big  Colt's  revolver  and  a  hunting- 
knife  strapped  about  him  on  a  belt  that  fairly  bristled 

10  with  cartridges.  This  belt  was  the  most  salient  thing 
about  him.  It  advertised  his  callowness°  —  a  callow- 
ness  sheer  and  unutterable.  Both  men  were  manifestly 
out  of  place,  and  why  such  as  they  should  adventure  the 
North  is  part  of  the  mystery  of  things  that  passes 

15  understanding. 

Buck  heard  the  chaffering,  saw  the  money  pass 
between  the  man  and  the  Government  agent,  and 
knew  that  the  Scotch  half-breed  and  the  mail-train 
drivers  were  passing  out  of  his  life  on  the  heels  of 

20Perrault  and  Francois  and  the  others  who  had  gone 
before.  When  driven  with  his  mates  to  the  new 
owners'  camp,  Buck  saw  a  slipshod  and  slovenly 
affair,  tent  half  stretched,  dishes  unwashed,  every- 
thing  in   disorder;     also,   he   saw   a   woman.     "Mer-i 

25 cedes"  the  men  called  her.  She  was  Charles's  wife 
and  Hal's  sister  —  a  nice  family  party. 

Buck  watched  them  apprehensively  as  they  pro- 
ceeded to  take  down  the  tent  and  load  the  sled. 
There  was  a  great  deal  of  effort  about  their  manner, 

30  but   no   businesslike   method.     The   tent-  was   rolled 


THE  TOIL   OF  TRACE  AND   TRAIL  65 

into  an  awkward  bundle  three  times  as  large  as  it 
should  have  been.  The  tin  dishes  were  packed  away 
unwashed.  Mercedes  continually  fluttered  in  the  way 
of  her  men  and  kept  up  an  unbroken  chattering  of 
remonstrance  and  advice.  When  they  put  a  clothes- 5 
sack  on  the  front  of  the  sled,  she  suggested  it  should 
go  on  the  back ;  and  when  they  had  it  put  on  the  back, 
and  covered  it  over  with  a  couple  of  other  bundles, 
she  discovered  overlooked  articles  which  could  abide 
nowhere  else  but  in  that  very  sack,  and  they  unloaded  10 
again. 

Three  men  from  a  neighboring  tent  came  out  and 
'.ooked  on,  grinning  and  winking  at  one  another. 

"You've  got  a  right  smart  load  as  it  is,"  said  one 
>f  them ;  "  and  it's  not  me  should  tell  you  your  business,  15 
)ut  I  wouldn't  tote  that  tent  along  if  I  was  you.'* 

Undreamed  of!"  cried  Mercedes,  throwing  up 
ler  hands  in  dainty  dismay.  "However  in  the  world 
jould  I  manage  without  a  tent?" 

It's  springtime,  and  you  won't  get  any  more  cold  20 
veather,"  the  man  replied. 

She   shook   her   head   decidedly,    and   Charles    and 
3al  put  the  last  odds  and  ends  on  top  the  mountainous 
oad. 
"Think  it'll  ride?"  one  of  the  men  asked.  25 

"Why    shouldn't    it?"    Charles    demanded    rather 
hortly. 

jpil     "Oh,    that's    all   right,  that's  all   right,"    the   man 
astened  meekly  to  say.     "  I  was  just  a-wonderin',  that 
y  5  all.     It  seemed  a  mite  top-heavy."  30 

I  ^ 


6Q  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

Charles  turned  his  back  and  drew  .  the  lashings 
down  as  well  as  he  could,  which  was  not  in  the  least 
well. 

"An'  of  course  the  dogs  can  hike  along  all  day  with 
5  that  contraption  behind  them,"  affirmed  a  second  of 
the  men.    » 

"Certainly/'  said  Hal,  with  freezing  politeness, 
taking  hold  of  the  gee-pole  with  one  hand  and  swinging 
his  whip  from  the  other.  "Mush  I"  he  shouted. 
10  "Mush  on  there!" 

The  dogs  sprang  against  the  breast-bands,  strained 
hard  for  a  few  moments,  then  relaxed.  They  were 
unable  to  move  the  sled. 

"The  lazy  brutes,  I'll  show  them,"  he  cried,  pre- 
15  paring  to  lash  out  at  them  with  the  whip. 

But   Mercedes   interfered,    crying,    "Oh,    Hal,    you 

mustn't,"  as  she  caught  hold  of  the  whip  and  wrenched 

it    from    him,     "The    poor    dears!     Now    you    must 

promise  you  won't  be  harsh  with  them  for  the  rest  of 

20  the  trip,  or  I  won't  go  a  step." 

"Precious  lot  you  know  about  dogs,"  her  brother 

sneered  ;    "  and  I  wish  you'd  leave  me  alone.     They're 

lazy,  I  tell  you,  and  you've  got  to  whip  them  to  get 

anything  out  of  them.     That's  their  way.     You  ask 

25  any  one.     Ask  one  of  those  men." 

Mercedes  looked  at  them  imploringly,  untold  re- 
pugnance at  sight  of  pain  written  in  her  pretty  face. 

"  They're  weak  as  water,  if  you  want  to  know,"  came 
the  reply  from  one  of  the  men.  "Plum  tuckered  out, 
30  that's  what's  the  matter.     They  need  a  rest." 


THE  TOIL    OF  TRACE  AND   TRAIL  67 

"Rest  be  blanked,"  said  Hal,  with  his  beardless 
lips;  and  Mercedes  said,  "Oh!"  in  pain  and  sorrow 
at  the  oath. 

But  she  was  a   clannish°  creature,   and  rushed   at 
once   to   the   defence  of  her  brother.     "  Never   mind  5 
that  man,"  she  said  pointedly.     "You're  driving  our 
dogs,  and  you  do  what  you  think  best  with  them." 

Again  Hal's  whip  fell  upon  the  dogs.  They  threw 
themselves  against  the  breast-bands,  dug  their  feet 
into  the  packed  snow,  got  down  low  to  it,  and  put  10 
forth  all  their  strength.  The  sled  held  as  though  it 
were  an  anchor.  After  two  efforts,  they  stood  still, 
panting.  The  whip  was  whistling  savagely,  when  once 
more  Mercedes  interfered.  She  dropped  on  her  knees 
before  Buck,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  put  her  arms  15 
around  his  neck. 

"You  poor,  poor  dears,"  she  cried  sympathetically, 
"  why  don't  you  pull  hard  ?  —  then  you  wouldn't  be 
whipped."     Buck  did  not  like  her,  but  he  was  feeling 
too  miserable  to  resist  her,  taking  it  as  part  of  the  20 
day's  miserable  work. 

One  of  the  onlookers,  who  had  been  clenching  his 
teeth  to  suppress  hot  speech,  now  spoke  up  :  — 

"It's  not  that  I  care  a  whoop  what  becomes  of 
you,  but  for  the  dogs'  sakes  I  just  want  to  tell  you,  25 
you  can  help  them  a  mighty  lot  by  breaking  out  that 
sled.  The  runners  are  froze  fast.  Throw  your 
weight  against  the  gee-pole,  right  and  left,  and  break 
it  out." 

A  third  time  the  attempt  was  made,  but  this  time,  30 


68  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

following  the  ad\'ice,  Hal  broke  out  the  runners  which 
had  been  frozen  to  the  snow.  The  overloaded  and 
unwieldy  sled  forged  ahead,  Buck  and  his  mates 
struggling  frantically  under  the  rain  of  blows.  A 
5  hundred  yards  ahead  the  path  turned  and  sloped 
steeply  into  the  main  street.  It  would  have  required 
an  experienced  man  to  keep  the  top-heavy  sled  upright, 
and  Hal  was  not  such  a  man.  As  they  swung  on  the 
turn  the  sled  went  over,  spilling  half  its  load  through 

10  the  loose  lashings.  The  dogs  never  stopped.  The 
lightened  sled  bounded  on  its  side  behind  them.  They 
were  angry  because  of  the  ill  treatment  they  had 
received  and  the  unjust  load.  Buck  was  raging.  He 
broke  into  a  run,  the  team  following  his  lead.     Hal 

15 cried  "Whoa!  whoa!"  but  they  gave  no  heed.  He 
tripped  and  was  pulled  off  his  feet.  The  capsized  sled 
ground  over  him,  and  the  dogs  dashed  on  up  the  street, 
adding  to  the  gayety  of  Skaguay  as  they  scattered  the 
remainder  of  the  outfit  along  its  chief  thoroughfare. 

20  Kind-hearted  citizens  caught  the  dogs  and  gathered 
up  the  scattered  belongings.  Also,  they  gaA^e  advice. 
Half  the  load  and  twice  the  dogs,  if  they  ever  expected 
to  reach  Dawson,  was  what  was  said.  Hal  and  his 
sister  and  brother-in-law  listened  unwillingly,  pitched 

25  tent,  and  overhauled  the  outfit.  Canned  goods  were 
turned  out  that  made  men  laugh,  for  canned  goods 
on  the  Long  Trail  is  a  thing  to  dream  about.  "  Blankets 
for  a  hotel,"  quoth  one  of  the  men  who  laughed  and 
helped.     "  Half  as  many  is  too  much ;   get  rid  of  them. 

"30  Throw  away  that  tent,  and  all  those  dishes,  —  who's 


THE  TOIL   OF  TRACE  AND   TRAIL  69 

going  to  wash  them,  anyway?     Good  Lord,  do  you 
think  you're  traveUing  on  a  Pullman?"  ' 

And  so  it  went,  the  inexorable  elimination  of  the 
superfluous. °  Mercedes  cried  when  her  clothes-bags 
were  dumped  on  the  ground  and  article  after  articles 
was  thrown  out.  She  cried  in  general,  and  she  cried 
in  particular  over  each  discarded  thing.  She  clasped 
hands  about  knees,  rocking  back  and  forth  broken- 
heartedly.  She  averred  she  would  not  go  an  inch,  not 
for  a  dozen  Charleses.  She  appealed  to  everybody  lo 
and  to  everytliing,  finally  wiping  her  eyes  and  pro- 
ceeding to  cast  out  even  articles  of  apparel  that  were 
imperative  necessaries.  And  in  her  zeal,  when  she  had 
finished  with  her  own,  she  attacked  the  belongings  of 
her  men  and  went  through  them  like  a  tornado.  15 

This  accomplished,  the  outfit,  though  cut  in  half, 
was  still  a  formidable  bulk.  Charles  and  Hal  went 
out  in  the  evening  and  bought  six  Outside  dogs. 
These,  added  to  the  six  of  the  original  team,  and  Teek 
and  Koona,  the  huskies  obtained  at  the  Rink  Rapids  20 
on  the  record  trip,  brought  the  team  up  to  fourteen. 
But  the  Outside  dogs,  though  practically  broken  in 
since  their  landing,  did  not  amount  to  much.  Three 
were  short-haired  pointers,  one  was  a  Newfoundland, 
and  the  other  two  were  mongrels  of  indeterminate  25 
breed.  They  did  not  seem  to  know  anything,  these 
newcomers.  Buck  and  his  comrades  looked  upon 
them  with  disgust,  and  though  he  speedily  taught  them 
their  places  and  what  not  to  do,  he  could  not  teach 
them  what  to  do.     They  did  not  take  kindly  to  trace  30 


70  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

and  trail.  With  the  exception  of  the  two  mongrels, 
they  were  bewildered  and  spirit-broken  by  the  strange 
savage  environment  in  which  they  found  themselves 
and  by  the  ill  treatment  they  had  received.  The  two 
6  mongrels  were  without  spirit  at  all ;  bones  were  the 
only  things  breakable  about  them. 

With  the  newcomers  hopeless  and  forlorn,  and 
the  old  team  worn  out  by  twenty-five  hundred  miles 
of   continuous    trail,    the   outlook   was    anything   but 

10  bright.  The  two  men,  however,  were  quite  cheer- 
ful. And  they  were  proud,  too.  They  were  doing 
the  thing  in  style,  with  fourteen  dogs.  They  had  seen 
other  sleds  depart  over  the  Pass  for  Dawson,  or  come 
in  from  Dawson,  but  never  had  they  seen  a  sled  with 

15  so  many  as  fourteen  dogs.  In  the  nature  of  Arctic 
travel  there  was  a  reason  why  fourteen  dogs  should  not 
drag  one  sled,  and  that  was  that  one  sled  could  not 
carry  the  food  for  fourteen  dogs.  But  Charles  and 
Hal   did  not  know  this.     They  had  worked   the  trip 

20  out  with  a  pencil,  so  much  to  a  dog,  so  many  dogs,  so 
many  days,  Q.  E.  D.°  Mercedes  looked  over  their 
shoulders  and  nodded  comprehensively, °  it  was  all  so 
very  simple. 

Late  next  morning  Buck  led  the  long  team  up  the 

25  street.  There  was  nothing  lively  about  it,  no  snap 
or  go  in  him  and  his  fellows.  They  were  starting  dead 
weary.  Four  times  he  had  covered  the  distance 
between  Salt  Water  and  Dawson,  and  the  knowledge 
that,  jaded  and  tired,  he  was  facing  the  same  trail 

30  once  more,  made  him  bitter.     His  heart  was  not  in 


THE  TOIL   OF  TRACE  AND   TRAIL  71 

the  work,  nor  was  the  heart  of  any  dog.  The  Out  sides 
were  timid  and  frightened,  the  Insides  without  confi- 
dence in  their  masters. 

Buck  felt  vaguely  that  there  was  no  depending  upon 
these  two  men  and  the  woman.     They  did  not  knows 
how  to  do  anything,  and  as  the  days  went  by  it  became 
apparent  that  they  could  not  learn.     They  were  slack 
in  all  things,  without  order  or  discipline.     It  took  them 
half  the  night  to  pitch  a  slovenly  camp,  and  half  the 
morning  to  break  that  camp  and  get  the  sled  loaded  10 
in  fashion  so  slovenly  that  for  the  rest  of  the  day 
they  were  occupied  in  stopping  and  rearranging  the 
load.     Some  days  they  did  not  make  ten  miles.     On 
other  days   they  were  unable   to  get  started   at  all. 
And  on  no  day  did  they  succeed  in  making  more  than  15 
half  the  distance  used  by  the  men  as  a  basis  in  their 
dog-food  computation. 

It  was  inevitable  that  they  should  go  short  on  dog- 
food.  But  they  hastened  it  by  overfeeding,  bringing 
the  day  nearer  when  underfeeding  would  commence.  20 
The  Outside  dogs,  whose  digestions  had  not  been  trained 
by  chronic  famine  to  make  the  most  of  little,  had  vora- 
cious appetites.  And  when,  in  addition  to  this,  the 
worn-out  huskies  pulled  weakly,  Hal  decided  that  the 
orthodox°  ration  was  too  small.  He  doubled  it.  And  25 
to  cap  it  all,  when  Mercedes,  with  tears  in  her  pretty 
eyes  and  a  quaver  in  her  throat,  could  not  cajole  him 
into  giving  the  dogs  still  more,  she  stole  from  the  fish- 
sacks  and  fed  them  slyly.  But  it  was  not  food  that 
Buck  and  the  huskies  needed,  but  rest.     And  though  30 


72  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

they  were  making   poor   time,   the  heavy   load   they 
dragged  sapped  their  strength  severely. 

Then  came  the  underfeeding.  Hal  awoke  one  day 
to  the  fact  that  his  dog-food  was  half  gone  and  the 
5 distance  only  quarter  covered;  further,  that  for  love 
or  money  no  additional  dog-food  was  to  be  obtained. 
So  he  cut  down  even  the  orthodox  ration  and  tried  to 
increase  the  day's  travel.  His  sister  and  brother-in- 
law  seconded  him ;    but  they  were  frustrated  by  their 

10  heavy  outfit  and  their  own  incompetence.  It  was  a 
simple  matter  to  give  the  dogs  less  food ;  but  it  was 
impossible  to  make  the  dogs  travel  faster,  while  their 
own  inability  to  get  under  way  earlier  in  the  morning 
prevented   them   from   travelling   longer   hours.     Not 

15  only  did  they  not  know  how  to  work  dogs,  but  they  did 
not  know  how  to  work  themselves. 

The  first  to  go  was  Dub.  Poor  blundering  thief 
that  he  was,  always  getting  caught  and  punished,  he 
had  none  the  less  been  a  faitliful  worker.     His  \^Tenched 

20  shoulder-blade,  untreated  and  unrested,  went  from  bad 
to  worse,  till  finally  Hal  shot  him  with  the  big  Colt's 
revolver.  It  is  a  saying  of  the  country  that  an  Outside 
dog  starves  to  death  on  the  ration  of  the  husk}^  so  the 
six  Outside  dogs  under  Buck  could  do  no  less  than  die 

25  on  half  the  ration  of  the  husky.  The  Newfoundland 
went  first,  followed  by  the  three  short-haired  pointers, 
the  two  mongrels  hanging  more  grittily  on  to  life,  but 
going  in  the  end. 

By  this  time  all  the  amenities°  and  gentlenesses  of 

30  the  Southland  had  fallen  away  from  the  three  people. 


THE  TOIL   OF  TRACE  AND   TRAIL  73 

Shorn  of  its  glamour°  and  romance,  Arctic  travel  became 
to  them  a  reaUty  too  harsh  for  their  manhood  and 
womanhood.  Mercedes  ceased  weeping  over  the  dogs, 
being  too  occupied  with  weeping  over  herself  and  with 
:  quarrelling  with  her  husband  and  brother.  To  quarrel  5 
I  was  the  one  thing  they  were  never  too  weary  to  do. 
Their  irritability  arose  out  of  their  misery,  increased 
with  it,  doubled  upon  it,  outdistanced  it.  The 
wonderful  patience  of  the  trail  which  comes  to  men 
who  toil  hard  and  suffer  sore,  and  remain  sweet  of  10 
speech  and  kindly,  did  not  come  to  these  two  men  and 
the  woman.  They  had  no  inkling  of  such  a  patience. 
They  were  stiff  and  in  pain ;  their  muscles  ached,  their 
bones  ached,  their  very  hearts  ached ;  and  because  of 
this  they  became  sharp  of  speech,  and  hard  words  15 
were  first  on  then*  lips  in  the  morning  and  last  at  night. 
Charles  and  Hal  wrangled  whenever  Mercedes 
gave  them  a  chance.  It  was  the  cherished  belief 
of  each  that  he  did  more  than  his  share  of  the  work, 
and  neither  forbore  to  speak  his  belief  at  every  op- 20 
portunity.  Sometimes  Mercedes  sided  with  her  hus- 
band, sometimes  with  her  brother.  The  result  was 
a  beautiful  and  unending  family  quarrel.  Starting 
from  a  dispute  as  to  which  should  chop  a  few  sticks 
for  the  fire  (a  dispute  which  concerned  only  Charles  25 
and  Hal),  presently  would  be  lugged  in  the  rest  of  the 
I  family,  fathers,  mothers,  uncles,  cousins,  people  thou- 
sands of  miles  awa^^,  and  some  of  them  dead.  That 
Hal's  views  on  art,  or  the  sort  of  society  plays  his 
mother's  brother  wrote,  should  have  anything  to  do  30 


74  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

with  the  chopping  of  a  few  sticks  of  firewood  passes 
comprehension ;  nevertheless  the  quarrel  was  as 
likely  to  tend  in  that  direction  as  in  the  direction  of 
Charles's  political  prejudices.  And  that  Charles's 
5  sister's  tale-bearing  tongue  should  be  relevant  to°  the 
building  of  a  Yukon  fire,  was  apparent  only  to  Mercedes, 
who  disburdened  herself  of  copious  opinions  upon  that 
topic,  and  incidentally  upon  a  few  other  traits  un- 
pleasantly peculiar  to  her  husband's  family.     In  the 

10  meantime  the  fire  remained  unbuilt,  the  camp  half 
pitched,  the  dogs  unfed. 

Mercedes  nursed  a  special  grievance  —  the  griev- 
ance of  sex.  She  was  pretty  and  soft,  and  had  been 
chivalrousl3^°  treated  all  her  days.     But  the  present 

15  treatment  by  her  husband  and  brother  was  every- 
thing save  chivalrous.  It  was  her  custom  to  be  help- 
less. They  complained.  Upon  which  impeachment 
of  what  to  her  was  her  most  essential  sex-prerogative, 
she  made  their  lives  unendurable.     She  no  longer  con- 

20sidered  the  dogs,  and  because  she  was  sore  and  tired, 
she  persisted  in  riding  on  the  sled.  She  was  pretty 
and  soft,  but  she  weighed  one  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds  —  a  lusty  last  straw  to  the  load  dragged  by  the 
weak  and  starving  animals.     She  rode  for  days,   till 

25  they  fell  in  the  traces  and  the  sled  stood  still.  Charles 
and  Hal  begged  her  to  get  off  and  walk,  pleaded  with 
her,  entreated,  the  while  she  wept  and  importuned° 
Heaven  with  a  recital  of  their  brutality. 

On  one  occasion  they  took  her  off  the  sled  by  main 

30  strength.     They  never  did  it  again.     She  let  her  legs 


THE   TOIL    OF  TRACE  AND    TRAIL  .0 

go  limp  like  a  spoiled  child,  and  sat  down  on  the  trail. 
They  went  on  their  way,  but  she  did  not  move.  After 
they  had  travelled  three  miles  they  unloaded  the  sled, 
came  back  for  her,  and  b}'  main  strength  put  her  on 
the  sled  again.  5 

In  the  excess  of  their  own  misery  they  were  callous 
to  the  suffering  of  their  animals.  Hal's  theory,  which 
he  practised  on  others,  was  that  one  must  get  hardened. 
He  had  started  out  preaching  it  to  his  sister  and  brother- 
in-law.  Failing  there,  he  hammered  it  into  the  dogs  lo 
with  a  club.  At  the  Five  Fingers  the  dog-food  gave 
out,  and  a  toothless  old  squaw  offered  to  trade  them  a 
few  pounds  of  frozen  horse-hide  for  the  Colt's  revolver 
that  kept  the  big  hunting-knife  company  at  Hal's  hip. 
A  poor  substitute  for  food  was  this  hide,  just  as  it  had  15 
been  stripped  from  the  starved  horses  of  the  cattlemen 
six  months  back.  In  its  frozen  state  it  was  more  like 
strips  of  galvanized  iron,  and  when  a  dog  wrestled  it 
into  his  stomach,  it  thawed  into  thin  and  innutritions 
leathery  strings  and  into  a  mass  of  short  hair,  irritating  20 
and  indigestible. 

And  through  it  all  Buck  staggered  along  at  the  head 
of  the  team  as  in  a  nightmare.  He  pulled  when  he 
could ;  when  he  could  no  longer  pull,  he  fell  down  and 
remained  down  till  blows  from  whip  or  club  drove  him  25 
to  his  feet  again.  All  the  stiffness  and  gloss  had  gone 
out  of  his  beautiful  furry  coat.  The  hair  hung  down, 
limp  and  draggled,  or  matted  with  dried  blood  where 
Hal's  club  had  bruised  him.  His  muscles  had  wasted 
away  to  knotty  strings,  and  the  flesh  pads  had  dis-30 


76  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

appeared,  so  that  each  rib  and  every  bone  in  his  frame 
were  outUned  cleanly  through  the  loose  hide  that  was 
wrinkled  in  folds  of  emptiness.  It  was  heart-breaking, 
only  Buck's  heart  was  unbreakable.  The  man  in  the 
5  red  sweater  had  proved  that. 

As  it  was  with  Buck,  so  was  it  with  his  mates. 
They  were  perambulating  skeletons.  There  were  seven 
all  together,  including  him.  In  their  very  great  misery 
they  had  become  insensible  to  the  bite  of  the  lash  or 

10  the  bruise  of  the  club.  The  pain  of  the  beating  was 
dull  and  distant,  just  as  the  things  their  eyes  saw  and 
their  ears  heard  seemed  dull  and  distant.  They  were 
not  half  living,  or  quarter  living.  They  were  simply 
so  many  bags  of  bones  in  which  sparks  of  life  fluttered 

15  faintly.  When  a  halt  was  made,  they  dropped  down  in 
the  traces  like  dead  dogs,  and  the  spark  dimmed  and 
paled  and  seemed  to  go  out.  And  when  the  club  or 
whip  fell  upon  them,  the  spark  fluttered  feebly  up,  and 
they  tottered  to  their  feet  and  staggered  on. 

20  There  came  a  day  when  Billee,  the  good-natured, 
fell  and  could  not  rise.  Hal  had  traded  off  his  revolver, 
so  he  took  the  axe  and  knocked  Billee  on  the  head  as 
he  lay  in  the  traces,  then  cut  the  carcass  out  of  the 
harness  and  dragged  it  to  one  side.     Buck  saw,  and 

25  his  mates  saw,  and  they  knew  that  this  thing  was 
very  close  to  them.  On  the  next  day  Koona  went, 
and  but  five  of  them  remained  !  Joe,  too  far  gone  to  be 
malignant ;  Pike,  crippled  and  limping,  only  half  con- 
scious and  not  conscious  enough  longer  to  malinger; 

30  Sol-leks,  the  one-eyed,  still  faithful  to  the  toil  of  trace 


THE  TOIL   OF  TRACE  AND   TRAIL  77 

and  trail,  and  mournful  in  that  he  had  so  Httle  strength 
with  which  to  pull;  Teek,  who  had  not  travelled  so 
far  that  winter  and  who  was  now  beaten  more  than 
the  others  because  he  was  fresher;  and  Buck,  still  at 
the  head  of  the  team,  but  no  longer  enforcing  discipline  5 
or  striving  to  enforce  it,  blind  with  weakness  half  the 
time  and  keeping  the  trail  by  the  loom°  of  it  and  by 
the  dim  feel  of  his  feet. 

It  was  beautiful  spring  weather,   but  neither  dogs 
nor  humans  were  aware  of  it.     Each  day  the  sun  rose  10 
earlier  and  set  later.     It  was  dawn  by  three  in  the 
morning,    and    twilight    lingered    till    nine    at    night. 
The  whole  long  day  was   a  blaze  of  sunshine.     The 
ghostly   winter   silence   had   given   way   to   the   great 
spring    murmur    of    awakening    life.     This    murmur  15 
arose  from  all  the  land,  fraught  with  the  joy  of  living. 
It  came  from  the  things  that  lived  and  moved  again, 
things  which  had  been  as  dead  and  which  had  not 
moved   during   the   long   months   of   frost.     The   sap 
was  rising  in  the  pines.     The  willows  and  aspens  were  20 
bursting  out  in  young  buds.     Shrubs  and  vines  were 
putting   on   fresh   garbs   of  green.     Crickets   sang   in 
the  nights,  and  in  the  days  all  manner  of  creeping, 
crawling  things  rustled  forth  into  the  sun.     Partridges 
and  w^oodpeckers  were  booming  and  knocking  in  the  25 
forest.     Squirrels  were  chattering,  birds  singing,  and 
overhead  honked  the  wild-fowl  driving  up  from  the 
south  in  cunning  wedges  that  split  the  air. 

From  every  hill  slope  came  the  trickle   of  running 
water,    the    music    of   unseen   fountains.     All    things  30 


78  THE  CALL    OF  THE   WILD 

■  were  thawing,  bending,  snapping.  The  Yukon  was 
straining  to  break  loose  the  ice  that  bound  it  down. 
It  ate  away  from  beneath;  the  sun  ate  from  above. 
Air-holes   formed,   fissures   sprang   and   spread   apart, 

5  while  thin  sections  of  ice  fell  through  bodily  into  the 
river.  And  amid  all  this  bursting,  rending,  throbbing 
of  awakening  life,  under  the  blazing  sun  and  through 
the  soft-sighing  breezes,  like  wayfarers  to  death, 
staggered  the  two  men,  the  woman,  and  the  huskies. 

10  With  the  dogs  falling,  ]\Iercedes  weeping  and  riding, 
Hal  swearing  innocuously,"  and  Charles's  eyes  wistfully 
watering,  they  staggered  into  John  Thornton's  camp 
at  the  mouth  of  White  River.  When  they  halted, 
the  dogs  dropped  down  as  though  they  had  all  been 

15  struck  dead.  Mercedes  dried  her  eyes  and  looked  at 
John  Thornton.  Charles  sat  down  on  a  log  to  rest. 
He  sat  down  very  slowly  and  painstakingly,  what  of 
his  great  stiffness.  Hal  did  the  talking.  John  Thorn- 
ton was  whittling  the  last  touches  on  an  axe-handle  he 

20  had   made  from  a  stick  of  birch.     He  whittled  and 

listened,  gave  monosyllabic  replies,  and,  when  it  was 

asked,  terse  advice.     He  knew  the  breed,  and  he  gave 

his  advice  in  the  certainty  that  it  would  not  be  followed. 

"  They  told  us  up  above  that  the  bottom  was  dropping 

25  out  of  the  trail  and  that  the  best  thing  for  us  to  do 
was  to  lay  over,"  Hal  said  in  response  to  Thornton's 
warning  to  take  no  more  chances  on  the  rotten  ice. 
"They  told  us  we  couldn't  make  White  River,  and 
here  we  are."     This  last  with  a  sneering  ring  of  triumph 

30  in  it. 


THE  TOIL    OF  TBACE  AND   TRAIL  79 

"And  they  told  you  true,"  John  Thornton  answered. 
"  The  bottom's  Hkely  to  drop  out  at  any  moment.  Only 
fools,  with  the  blind  luck  of  fools,  could  have  made  it. 
I  tell  you  straight,  I  wouldn't  risk  my  carcass  on  that 
ice  for  all  the  gold  in  Alaska."  5 

"That's  because  you're  not  a  fool,  I  suppose,"  said 
Hal.  "All  the  same,  we'll  go  on  to  Dawson."  He 
uncoiled  his  whip.  "  Get  up  there.  Buck  !  Hi !  Get 
up  there!     Mush  on!" 

Thornton  went  on  whittling.     It  was  idle,  he  knew,  10 
to   get   between   a   fool   and   his   folly,   while   two   or 
three  fools  more  or  less  would  not  alter  the  scheme  of 
things. 

But  the  team  did  not  get  up  at  the  command.     It 
had  long  since  passed  into  the  stage  where  blows  were  15 
required  to  rouse  it.     The  whip  flashed  out,  here  and 
there,  on  its  merciless  errands.     John  Thornton  com- 
pressed his  lips.     Sol-leks  was  the  first  to  crawl  to  his 
feet.     Teek   followed.     Joe   came   next,   yelping   with 
pain.     Pike  made  painful  efforts.     Twice  he  fell  over,  20 
when  half  up,  and  on  the  third  attempt  managed  to 
rise.     Buck  made  no  effort.     He  lay  quietly  where  he 
had  fallen.     The  lash  bit  into  him  again  and  again, 
but  he  neither  whined  nor  struggled.     Several  times 
Thornton  started,   as  though  to  speak,   but  changed  25 
his  mind.     A  moisture  came  into  his  eyes,  and,  as  the 
whipping  continued,  he  arose  and  walked  irresolutely 
up  and  down. 

This  was  the  first  time  Buck  had  failed,  in  itself  a 
sufficient  reason  to  drive  Hal  into  a  rage.     He  ex- 30 


80  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

changed  the  whip  for  the  customary  club.  Buck  re- 
fused to  move  under  the  rain  of  heavier  blows  which 
now  fell  upon  him.  Like  his  mates,  he  was  barely 
able  to  get  up,  but,  unlike  them,  he  had  made  up 
5  his  mind  not  to  get  up.  He  had  a  vague  feeling  of 
impending  doom.°  This  had  been  strong  upon  him 
when  he  pulled  in  to  the  bank,  and  it  had  not  de- 
parted from  him.  What  of  the  thin  and  rotten  ice  he 
had  felt  under  his  feet  all  day,  it  seemed  that  he  sensed 

10  disaster  close  at  hand,  out  there  ahead  on  the  ice  where 
his  master  was  trying  to  drive  him.  He  refused  to 
stir.  So  greatly  had  he  suffered,  and  so  far  gone  was 
he,  that  the  blows  did  not  hurt  much.  And  as  they 
continued  to  fall  upon  him  the  spark  of  life  within 

15  flickered  and  went  down.  It  was  nearly  out.  He 
felt  strangely  numb.  As  though  from  a  great  distance, 
he  was  aware  that  he  was  being  beaten.  The  last 
sensations  of  pain  left  him.  He  no  longer  felt  anything, 
though  very  faintly  he  could  hear  the  impact  of  the 

20  club  upon  his  body.  But  it  was  no  longer  his  body,  it 
seemed  so  far  away. 

And  then,  suddenly,  without  warning,  uttering  a 
cry  that  was  inarticulate°  and  more  like  the  cry  of  an 
animal,   John   Thornton   sprang  upon   the   man   who 

25  wielded  the  club.  Hal  was  hurled  backward,  as  though 
struck  by  a  falling  tree.  Mercedes  screamed.  Charles 
looked  on  wistfully,"  wiped  his  watery  eyes,  but  did 
not  get  up  because  of  his  stiffness. 

John  Thornton  stood  over  Buck,  struggling  to  control 

30  himself,  too  convulsed  with  rage  to  speak. 


THE  TOIL   OF  TRACE  AND   TRAIL  81 

"If  you  strike  that  dog  again,  I'll  kill  you,"  he  at 
last  managed  to  say  in  a  choking  voice. 

"It's  my  dog,"  Hal  replied,  wiping  the  blood  from 
his  mouth  as  he  came  back.  "  Get  out  of  my  way,  or 
I'll  fix  you.     I'm  going  to  Dawson."  5 

Thornton  stood  between  him  and  Buck,  and  evinced 
no  intention  of  getting  out  of  the  way.  Hal  drew 
his  long  hunting-knife.  Mercedes  screamed,  cried, 
laughed  and  manifested  the  chaotic  abandonment  of 
hysteria.  °  Thornton  rapped  Hal's  knuckles  with  the  lO 
axe-handle,  knocking  the  knife  to  the  ground.  He 
rapped  his  knuckles  again  as  he  tried  to  pick  it  up. 
Then  he  stopped,  picked  it  up  himself,  and  with  two 
strokes  cut  Buck's  traces. 

Hal  had  no  fight  left  in  him.  Besides,  his  hands  15 
were  full  with  his  sister,  or  his  arms,  rather;  while 
Buck  was  too  near  dead  to  be  of  further  use  in  hauling 
the  sled.  A  few  minutes  later  they  pulled  out  from 
the  bank  and  down  the  river.  Buck  heard  them'  go 
and  raised  his  head  to  see.  Pike  was  leading,  Sol-leks  20 
was  at  the  wheel,  and  between  were  Joe  and  Teek. 
They  were  limping  and  staggering.  Mercedes  was 
riding  the  loaded  sled.  Hal  guided  at  the  gee-pole, 
and  Charles  stumbled  along  in  the  rear. 

As  Buck  watched  them,  Thornton  knelt  beside  him  25 
and  with  rough,  kindly  hands  searched  for  broken  bones. 
By  the  time  his  search  had  disclosed  nothing  more  than 
many  bruises  and  a  state  of  terrible  starvation,  the 
sled  was  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  Dog  and  man 
watched   it   crawling   along   over   the   ice.      Suddenly  30 


82  THE  CALL    OF  TEE    WILD 

they  saw  its  back  end  drop  down,  as  into  a  rut,  and  the 
gee-pole,  with  Hal  clinging  to  it,  jerk  into  the  air. 
Mercedes's  scream  came  to  their  ears.  They  saw 
Charles  turn  and  make  one  step  to  run  back,  and  then 
5  a  whole  section  of  ice  give  way  and  dogs  and  humans 
disappear.  A  yawning  hole  was  all  that  was  to  be 
seen.     The  bottom  had  dropped  out  of  the  trail. 

John  Thornton  and  Buck  looked  at  each  other. 

"You  poor  devil,"  said  John  Thornton,  and  Buck 
10  licked  his  hand. 


I 


VI 

FOR   THE    LOVE   OF  A   MAN 

When  John  Thornton  froze  his  feet  in  the  previous 
December,  his  partners  had  made  him  comfortable 
and  left  him  to  get  well,  going  on  themselves  up  the 
river  to  get  out  a  raft  of  saw-logs  for  Dawson.  He  was 
still  limping  slightly  at  the  time  he  rescued  Buck,  but  5 
with  the  continued  warm  weather  even  the  slight  limp 
left  him.  And  here,  lying  by  the  river  bank  through 
the  long  spring  days,  watching  the  running  water, 
listening  lazily  to  the  songs  of  birds  and  the  hum  of 
nature,  Buck  slowly  won  back  his  strength.  10 

A  rest  comes  very  good  after  one  has  travelled 
three  thousand  miles,  and  it  must  be  confessed  that 
Buck  waxed  lazy  as  his  wounds  healed,  his  muscles 
swelled  out,  and  the  flesh  came  back  to  cover  his  bones. 
For  that  matter,  they  were  all  loafing,  —  Buck,  John  15 
Thornton,  and  Skeet  and  Nig,  —  waiting  for  the  raft 
to  come  that  was  to  carry  them  down  to  Dawson. 
Skeet  was  a  little  Irish  setter  who  early  made  friends 
with  Buck,  who,  in  a  dying  condition,  was  unable  to 
resent  her  first  advances.  She  had  the  doctor  trait  20 
which  some  dogs  possess ;  and  as  a  mother  cat  washes 
her  kittens,  so  she  washed  and  cleansed  Buck's  wounds. 

83 


84  THE  CALL   OF  THE    WILD 

Regularly,  each  morning  after  he  had  finished  his  break- 
fast, she  performed  her  self-appointed  task,  till  he  came 
to  look  for  her  ministrations  as  much  as  he  did  for 
Thornton's.  Nig,  equally  friendly,  though  less  demon- 
5strative,  was  a  huge  black  dog,  half  bloodhound  and 
half  deerhound,  with  eyes  that  laughed  and  a  bound- 
less good  nature.  To  Buck's  surprise  these  dogs 
manifested  no  jealousy  toward  him.  They  seemed 
to  share  the  kindliness  and  largeness  of  John  Thorn- 

10  ton.  As  Buck  grew  stronger  they  enticed  him  into 
all  sorts  of  ridiculous  games,  in  which  Thornton. him- 
self could  not  forbear  to  join ;  and  in  this  fashion  Buck 
romped  through  his  convalescence  and  into  a  new 
existence.     Love,    genuine    passionate    love,    was    his 

15  for  the  first  time.  This  he  had  never  experienced 
at  Judge  Miller's  down  in  the  sun-kissed  Santa  Clara 
Valley.  With  the  Judge's  sons,  hunting  and  tramp- 
ing, it  had  been  a  working  partnership ;  with  the 
Judge's  grandsons,   a  sort  of  pompous  guardianship ; 

20  and  with  the  Judge  himself,  a  stately  and  dignified 
friendship.  But  love  that  was  feverish  and  burning, 
that  was  adoration,  that  was  madness,  it  had  taken 
John  Thornton  to  arouse. 

This  man  had  saved  his  life,  which  was  something; 

25  but,  further,  he  was  the  ideal  master.  Other  men 
saw  to  the  welfare  of  their  dogs  from  a  sense  of  duty 
and  business  expediency ;  he  saw  to  the  welfare  of  his 
as  if  they  were  his  own  children,  because  he  could  not 
help  it.     And  he  saw  further.     He  never  forgot  a  kindly 

30  greeting  or  a  cheering  word,  and  to  sit  down  for  a  long 


FOB   THE  LOVE  OF  A  MAN  85 

talk  with  them  ("gas"  he  called  it)  was  as  much  his 
delight  as  theirs.  He  had  a  way  of  taking  Buck's 
head  roughly  between  his  hands,  and  resting  his  own 
head  upon  Buck's,  of  shaking  him  back  and  forth 
the  while  calling  him  ill  names  that  to  Buck  were  5 
love  names.  Buck  knew  no  greater  joy  than  that 
rough  embrace  and  the  sound  of  murmured  oaths, 
and  at  each  jerk  back  and  forth  it  seemed  that  his 
heart  would  be  shaken  out  of  his  body,  so  great  was 
its  ecstasy.  And  when,  released,  he  sprang  to  his  10 
feet,  his  mouth  laughing,  his  eyes  eloquent,  his  throat 
vibrant  with  unuttered  sound,  and  in  that  fashion 
remained  without  movement,  John  Thornton  would 
reverently  exclaim,  "  God  !  you  can  all  but  speak ! " 

Buck  had  a  trick  of  love  expression  that  was  akin  15 
to  hurt.  He  would  often  seize  Thornton's  hand  in 
his  mouth  and  close  so  fiercely  that  the  flesh  bore  the 
impress  of  his  teeth  for  some  time  afterward.  And 
as  Buck  understood  the  oaths  to  be  love  words,  so  the 
man  understood  tliis  feigned  bite  for  a  caress.  20 

For  the  most  part,  however,  Buck's  love  was  ex- 
pressed in  adoration.  While  he  went  wild  with  happi- 
ness when  Thornton  touched  him  or  spoke  to  him,  he 
did  not  seek  these  tokens.  Unlike  Skeet,  who  was 
wont  to  shove  her  nose  under  Thornton's  hand  and  25 
nudge  and  nudge  till  petted  —  or  Nig,  who  would  stalk 
up  and  rest  his  great  head  on  Thornton's  knee,  Buck 
was  content  to  adore  at  a  distance.  He  would  lie 
by  the  hour,  eager,  alert,  at  Thornton's  feet,  looking 
up  into  his  face,  dwelling  upon  it,  studying  it,  follow- 30 


86  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

ing  with  keenest  interest  each  fleeting  expression, 
every  movement  or  change  of  feature.  Or,  as  chance 
might  have  it,  he  would  lie  farther  away,  to  the  side 
or  rear,  watching  the  outlines  of  the  man  and  the 
5  occasional  movements  of  his  body.  And  often,  such 
was  the  communion  in  which  they  lived,  the  strength 
of  Buck's  gaze  would  draw  John  Thornton's  head 
around,  and  he  would  return  the  gaze,  without  speech, 
his  heart  shining  out  of  his  eyes  as  Buck's  heart  shone 

10  out. 

For  a  long  time  after  his  rescue.  Buck  did  not  like 
Thornton  to  get  out  of  his  sight.  From  the  moment 
he  left  the  tent  to  when  he  entered  it  again.  Buck  would 
follow  at  his  heels.     His  transient^  masters  since  he 

15  had  come  into  the  Northland  had  bred  in  him  a  fear 
that  no  master  could  be  permanent.  He  was.  afraid 
that  Thornton  would  pass  out  of  his  life  as  Perrault 
and  Fran9ois  and  the  Scotch  half-breed  had  passed 
out.     Even  in  the  night,  in  his  dreams,  he  was  haunted 

20  by  this  fear.  At  such  times  he  would  shake  off  sleep 
and  creep  through  the  chill  to  the  flap  of  the  tent, 
where  he  would  stand  and  listen  to  the  sound  of  his 
master's  breathing. 

But  in  spite  of  this  great  love  he  bore  John  Thorn- 

25  ton,  which  seemed  to  bespeak  the  soft  civilizing  influ- 
ence, the  strain  of  the  primitive,  which  the  Northland 
had  aroused  in  him,  remained  alive  and  active.  Faith- 
fulness and  devotion,  things  born  of  fire  and  roof, 
were  his;    yet  he  retained  his  wildness  and  wiliness. 

30  He  was  a  thing  of  the  wild,  come  in  from  the  wild  to 


FOR   THE  LOVE  OF  A   MAN  87 

sit  by  John  Thornton's  fire,  rather  than  a  dog  of  the 
soft  Southland  stamped  with  the  marks  of  generations 
of  civiHzation.  Because  of  his  very  great  love,  he 
could  not  steal  from  this  man,  but  from  any  other  man, 
in  any  other  camp,  he  did  not  hesitate  an  instant;  5 
while  the  cunning  with  which  he  stole  enabled  him 
to  escape  detection. 

His  face   and   body  were   scored   by   the   teeth    of 
many  dogs,  and  he  fought  as  fiercely  as  ever  and  more 
shrewdly.     Skeet  and  Nig  were  too  good-natured  for  10 
quarrelling,  —  besides,  they  belonged  to  John  Thorn- 
ton;   but  the  strange  dog,  no  matter  what  the  breed 
or  valor,  swiftly  acknowledged  Buck's  supremacy  or 
found  himself  struggling  for  life  with  a  terrible  antag- 
onist.    And    Buck    was    merciless.     He    had    learned  15 
well  the  law  of  club  and  fang,  and  he  never  forewent 
an  advantage  or  drew  back  from  a  foe  he  had  started 
on  the  way  to  Death.     He  had  lessoned°  from  Spitz, 
and  from  the  chief  fighting  dogs  of  the  police  and  mail, 
and  knew  there  was  no  middle  course.     He  must  mas-  20 
ter  or  be  mastered ;   while  to  show  mercy  was  a  weak- 
ness.    Mercy  did  not  exist  in  the  primordial  life.     It 
was  misunderstood  for  fear,  and  such  misunderstand- 
ings made  for  death.     Kill  or  be  killed,  eat  or  be  eaten, 
was  the  law ;  and  this  mandate,  down  out  of  the  depths  25 
of  Time,  he  obeyed. 

He  was  older  than  the  days  he  had  seen  and  the 
breaths  he  had  drawn.  He  linked  the  past  with  the 
present,  and  the  eternity  behind  him  throbbed  through 
him  in  a  mighty  rhythm  to  which  he  swayed  as  the  30 


88  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

tides  and  seasons  swayed.  He  sat  by  John  Thorn- 
ton's fire,  a  broad-breasted  dog,  white-fanged  and  long- 
furred  ;  but  behind  him  were  the  shades  of  all  manner 
of  dogs,  half -wolves  and  wild  wolves,  urgent  and  prompt- 
5  ing,  tasting  the  savor  of  the  meat  he  ate,  thirsting  for 
the  water  he  drank,  scenting  the  wind  with  him,  listen- 
ing with  him  and  telling  him  the  sounds  made  by  the 
wild  life  in  the  forest,  dictating  his  moods,  directing  his 
actions,  lying  down  to  sleep  witli  him  when  he  lay 

10  down,  and  dreaming  with  him  and  beyond  him  and 
becoming  themselves  the  stuff  of  his  dreams. 

So  peremptorily°  did  these  shades  beckon  him, 
that  each  day  mankind  and  the  claims  of  mankind 
slipped  farther  from  him.     Deep  in  the  forest  a  call 

15  was  sounding,  and  as  often  as  he  heard  this  call,  mys- 
teriously thrilling  and  luring,  he  felt  compelled  to 
turn  his  back  upon  the  fire  and  the  beaten  earth 
around  it,  and  to  plunge  into  the  forest,  and  on  and 
on,  he  knew  not  where  or  why;    nor  did  he  wonder 

20  where  or  why,  the  call  sounding  imperiously,  °  deep 
in  the  forest.  But  as  often  as  he  gained  the  soft  un- 
broken earth  and  the  green  shade,  the  love  for  John 
Thornton  drew  him  back  to  the  fire  again. 

Thornton   alone   held   him.     The   rest   of  mankind 

25  was  as  nothing.  Chance  travellers  might  praise  or 
pet  him ;  but  he  was  cold  under  it  all,  and  from  a 
too  demonstrative  man  he  would  get  up  and  'walk 
away.  When  Thornton's  partners,  Hans  arid  Pete, 
arrived   on   the   long-expected   raft,   Buck  refused   to 

30  notice  them  till  he  learned  they  were  close  to  Thorn- 


FOR   THE  LOVE  OF  A   MAN  89 

ton ;  after  that  he  tolerated  them  in  a  passive  sort  of 
way,  accepting  favors  from  them  as  though  he  favored 
them  by  accepting.  They  were  of  the  same  large 
type°  as  Thornton,  living  close  to  the  earth,  thinking 
simply  and  seeing  clearly ;  and  ere  they  swung  the  5^ 
raft  into  the  big  eddy  by  the  sawmill  at  Dawson,  they 
understood  Buck  and  his  ways,  and  did  not  insist  upon 
an  intimacy  such  as  obtained  with  Sheet  and  Nig. 

For  Thornton,  however,  his  love  seemed  to  grow 
and  grow.  He,  alone  among  men,  could  put  a  pack  10 
upon  Buck's  back  in  the  summer  travelling.  Noth- 
ing w^as  too  great  for  Buck  to  do,  when  Thornton  com- 
manded. One  day  (they  had  gTub-staked°  themselves 
from  the  proceeds  of  the  raft  and  left  Dawson  for  the 
head-waters  of  the  Tanana)  the  men  and  dogs  were  15 
sitting  on  the  crest  of  a  cliff  which  fell  away,  straight 
down,  to  naked  bed-rock  three  hundred  feet  below. 
John  Thornton  was  sitting  near  the  edge.  Buck  at  his 
shoulder.  A  thoughtless  whim  seized  Thornton,  and 
he  drew  the  attention  of  Hans  and  Pete  to  the  experi-20 
ment  he  had  in  mind.  "Jump,  Buck!"  he  com- 
manded, sweeping  his  arm  out  and  over  the  chasm. 
The  next  instant  he  was  grappling  with  Buck  on  the 
extreme  edge,  while  Hans  and  Pete  were  dragging  them 
back  into  safety.  25 

"It's  uncanny,"  Pete  said,  after  it  was  over  and 
they  had  caught  their  speech. 

Thornton  shook  his  head.  "No,  it  is  splendid,  and 
it  is  terrible,  too.  Do  you  know,  it  sometimes  makes 
me  afraid."  30 


90  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

"I'm  not  hankering  to  be  the  man  that  lays  hands 
on  you  while  he's  around,"  Pete  announced  conclu- 
sively, nodding  his  head  toward  Buck. 

"Py  Jingo  !"  was  Hans's  contribution,  "not  mineself 
5  either." 

It  was  at  Circle  City,  ere  the  year  was  out,  that 
Pete's  apprehensions  were  realized.  "Black"  Bur- 
ton, a  man  evil-tempered  and  malicious,  had  been 
picking  a  quarrel  with  a  tenderfoot°  at  the  bar,  when 

10  Thornton  stepped  good-naturedly  between.  Buck, 
as  w^as  his  custom,  was  lying  in  a  corner,  head  on  paws, 
watching  his  master's  every  action.  Burton  struck 
out,  without  warning,  straight  from  the  shoulder. 
Thornton  was  sent  spinning,  and  saved  himself  frofn 

15  falling  only  by  clutching  the  rail  of  the  bar. 

Those  who  were  looking  on  heard  what  was  neither 
bark  nor  yelp,  but  a  something  which  is  best  described 
as  a  roar,  and  they  saw  Buck's  body  rise  up  in  the  air 
as  he  left  the  floor  for  Burton's  throat.     The  man  saved 

20  his  life  by  instinctively  throwing  out  his  arm,  but  was 
hurled  backward  to  the  floor  with  Buck  on  top  of  him. 
Buck  loosed  his  teeth  from  the  flesh  of  the  arm  and 
drove  in  again  for  the  throat.  This  time  the  man  suc- 
ceeded only  in  partly  blocking,   and   his  throat  was 

25  torn  open.  Then  the  crowd  was  upon  Buck,  and  he 
was  driven  off ;  but  while  a  surgeon  checked  the 
bleeding,  he  prowled  up  and  down,  growling  furi- 
ously, attempting  to  rush  in,  and  being  forced  back 
by  an  array  of  hostile  clubs.     A  "miners'  meeting,"^ 

30  called  on  the  spot,   decided  that  the  dog  had  suffi- 


FOR   THE  LOVE  OF  A   MAN  91 

cient  provocation,  and  Buck  was  discharged.  But 
his  reputation  was  made,  and  from  that  day  his  name 
spread  through  every  camp  in  Alaska. 

Later  on,  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  he  saved  John 
Thornton's  life  in  quite  another  fashion.  The  threes 
partners  were  lining  a  long  and  narrow  poling-boat° 
down  a  bad  stretch  of  rapids  on  the  Forty -Mile  Creek. 
Hans  and  Pete  moved  along  the  bank,  snubbing^ 
with  a  thin  Manila  rope  from  tree  to  tree,  while  Thorn- 
ton remained  in  the  boat,  helping  its  descent  by  means  10 
of  a  pole,  and  shouting  directions  to  the  shore.  Buck, 
on  the  bank,  worried  and  anxious,  kept  abreast  of  the 
boat,  his  eyes  never  off  his  master. 

At  a  particularly  bad  spot,  where  a  ledge  of  barely 
submerged  rocks  jutted  out  into  the  river,  Hans  cast  15 
off  the  rope,  and,  while  Thornton  poled  the  boat  out 
into  the  stream,  ran  down  the  bank  with  the  end  in 
his  hand  to  snub  the  boat  when  he  had  cleared  the  ledge. 
This  it  did,  and  was  flying  down-stream  in  a  current 
as  swift  as  a  mill-race,  when  Hans  checked  it  with  the  20 
rope  and  checked  too  suddenly.  The  boat  flirted 
over  and  snubbed  in  to  the  bank  bottom  up,  while 
Thornton,  flung  sheer  out  of  it,  was  carried  down-stream 
toward  the  worst  part  of  the  rapids,  a  stretch  of  wild 
water  in  which  no  swimmer  could  live.  25 

Buck  had  sprung  in  on  the  instant ;  and  at  the 
end  of  three  hundred  yards,  amid  a  mad  swirl  of  water, 
he  overhauled  Thornton.  When  he  felt  him  grasp 
his  tail.  Buck  headed  for  the  bank,  swimming  with  all 
his   splendid   strength.     But   the   progress   shoreward  30 


92  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

was  slow ;  the  progress  down-stream  amazingly  rapid. 
From  below  came  the  fatal  roaring  where  the  wild 
current  went  wilder  and  was  rent  in  shreds  and  spray 
by  the  rocks  which  thrust  through  like  the  teeth  of 

5  an  enormous  comb.  The  suck  of  the  water  as  it  took 
the  beginning  of  the  last  steep  pitch  was  frightful, 
and  Thornton  knew  that  the  shore  was  impossible. 
He  scraped  furiously  over  a  rock,  bruised  across  a 
second,  and  struck  a  third  with  crushing  force.     He 

10  clutched  its  slippery  top  with  both  hands,  releasing 
Buck,  and  above  the  roar  of  the  churning  water 
shouted:  "Go,  Buck!   Go!" 

Buck  could  not  hold  his  own,  and  swept  on  down- 
stream,   struggling    desperately,    but    unable    to    win 

15  back.  When  he  heard  Thornton's  command  repeated, 
he  partly  reared  out  of  the  water,  throwing  his  head 
high,  as  though  for  a  last  look,  then  turned  obedi- 
ently toward  the  bank.  He  swam  powerfully  and  was 
dragged  ashore  by  Pete  and  Hans  at  the  very  point 

20  where  swimming  ceased  to  be  possible  and  destruction 
began. 

They  knew  that  the  time  a  man  could  cling  to  a 
slippery  rock  in  the  face  of  that  driving  current  was 
a  matter  of  minutes,  and  the\'  ran  as  fast  as  they  could 

25  up  the  bank  to  a  point  far  above  where  Thornton  was 
hanging  on.  They  attached  the  line  with  which  they 
had  been  snubbing  the  boat  to  Buck's  neck  and  shoul- 
ders, being  careful  that  it  should  neither  strangle  him 
nor  impede  his  swimming,  and  launched  him  into  the 

30  stream.     He  struck  out  boldly,  but  not  straight  enough 


FOE    THE  LOVE  OF  A   MAN  93 

into  the  stream.  He  discovered  the  mistake  too  late, 
when  Thornton  was  abreast  of  him  and  a  bare  half- 
dozen  strokes  away  while  he  was  being  carried  help- 
lessly past. 

Hans  promptly  snubbed  with  the  rope,  as  though  5 
Buck   were    a   boat.     The   rope    thus    tightening   on 
him  in  the  sw^eep  of  the  current,  he  was  jerked  under 
the  surface,   and  under  the  surface  he  remained  till 
his  body  struck  against  the  bank  and  he  was  hauled 
out.     He    was    half    drowned,    and    Hans    and    Pete  10 
threw    themselves    upon    him,    pounding    the    breath 
into  him  and  the  water  out  of  him.     He  staggered  to 
his  feet  and  fell  down.     The  faint  sound  of  Thornton's 
voice  came  to  them,  and  though  they  could  not  make 
out  the  words  of  it,  they  knew  that  he  was  in  his  ex- 15 
tremity.     His  master's  voice  acted  on  Buck  like  an 
electric  shock.     He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  ran  up  the 
bank  ahead  of  the  men  to  the  point  of  his  previous 
departure. 

Again  the  rope  was  attached  and  he  was  launched,  20 
and  again  he  struck  out,  but  this  time  straight  into 
the  stream.  He  had  miscalculated  once,  but  he 
would  not  be  guilty  of  it  a  second  time.  Hans  paid 
out  the  rope,  permitting  no  slack,  while  Pete  kept  it 
clear  of  coils.  Buck  held  on  till  he  was  on  a  line  25 
straight  above  Thornton;  then  he  turned,  and  with 
the  speed  of  an  express  train  headed  down  upon  him. 
Thornton  saw  him  coming,  and,  as  Buck  struck  him 
like  a  battering  ram,  with  the  whole  force  of  the  current 
behind  him,  he  reached  up  and  closed  with  both  arms  30 


94  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

around  the  shaggy  neck.  Hans  snubbed  the  rope 
around  the  tree,  and  Buck  and  Thornton  were  jerked 
under  the  water.  StrangHng,  suffocating,  sometimes 
one  uppermost  and  sometimes  the  other,  dragging  over 
5  the  jagged  bottom,  smashing  against  rocks  and  snags, 
they  veered  into  the  bank. 

Thornton  came  to,  belly  downward  and  being  vio- 
lently propelled  back  and  forth  across  a  drift  log  by 
Hans  and  Pete.°     His  first  glance  was  for  Buck,  over 

10  whose  limp  and  apparently  lifeless  body  Nig  was 
setting  up  a  howl,  while  Skeet  was  licking  the  wet 
face  and  closed  eyes.  Thornton  was  himself  bruised 
and  battered,  and  he  went  carefully  over  Buck's  body, 
when    he    had    been    brought    around,    finding    three 

15  broken  ribs. 

"That  settles  it,"  he  announced.  "We  camp 
right  here."  And  camp  they  did,  till  Buck's  ribs 
knitted  and  he  was  able  to  travel. 

That  winter,   at  Dawson,  Buck  performed  another 

20  exploit,  not  so  heroic,  perhaps,  but  one  that  put  his 
name  many  notches  higher  on  the  totem-pole°  of 
Alaskan  fame.  This  exploit  was  particularly  grati- 
fying to  the  three  men;  for  they  stood  in  need  of 
the  outfit   which   it  furnished,   and   were   enabled   to 

25  make  a  long-desired  trip  into  the  virgin  East,  where 
miners  had  not  yet  appeared.  It  was  brought  about 
by  a  conversation  in  the  Eldorado  Saloon,  in  which 
men  waxed  boastful  of  their  favorite  dogs.  Buck, 
because  of  his  record,  was  the  target  for  these  men, 

30  and    Thornton    was    driven    stoutly    to    defend    him. 


FOB   THE  LOVE  OF  A   MAN  95 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  one  man  stated  that  his 
dog  could  start  a  sled  with  five  hundred  pounds  and 
walk  off  with  it;  a  second  bragged  six  hundred  for 
his  dog ;    and  a  third,  seven  hundred. 

"Pooh!  pooh!"  said  John  Thornton;    "Buck  cans 
start  a  thousand  pounds." 

"And  break  it  out?  and  walk  off  with  it  for  a  hun- 
dred yards?"  demanded  Matthew^son,  a  Bonanza 
King,  he  of  the  seven  hundred  vaunt. 

"x\nd  break  it  out,  and  walk  off  with  it  for  a  hun-io 
dred  yards,"  John  Thornton  said  coolly. 

"Well,"  Matthewson  said,  slowly  and  deliberately, 
so  that  all  could  hear,  "I've  got  a  thousand  dollars 
that   says   he  can't.     And  there   it   is."      So  saying, 
he  slammed  a  sack  of  gold  dust  of  the  size  of  a  bologna  15 
sausage  down  upon  the  bar. 

Nobody  spoke.  Thornton's  bluff,°  if  bluff  it  was, 
had  been  called.  He  could  feel  a  flush  of  warm  blood 
creeping  up  his  face.  His  tongue  had  tricked  him. 
He  did  not  know  whether  Buck  could  start  a  thousand  20 
pounds.  Half  a  ton  1  The  enormousness  of  it  appalled 
him.  He  had  great  faith  in  Buck's  strength  and  had 
often  thought  him  capable  of  starting  such  a  load; 
but  never,  as  now,  had  he  faced  the  possibility  of  it, 
the  eyes  of  a  dozen  men  fixed  upon  him,  silent  and  wait-  25 
ing.  Further,  he  had  no  thousand  dollars;  nor  had 
Hans  or  Pete. 

"I've  got  a  sled  standing  outside  now,  with  tw^enty 
fifty-pound  sacks  of  flour  on  it,"  Matthewson  went  on 
with  brutal  directness ;   "  so  don't  let  that  hinder  vou."  30 


96  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

Thornton  did  not  repl}^  He  did  not  know  what 
to  say.  He  glanced  from  face  to  face  in  the  absent 
way  of  a  man  who  has  lost  the  power  of  thought  and 
is  seeking  somewhere  to  find  the  thing  that  will  start 
5  it  going  again.  The  face  of  Jim  O'Brien,  a  Mastodon 
King°  and  old-time  comrade,  caught  his  e\'es.  It 
was  as  a  cue  to  him,  seeming  to  rouse  him  to  do  what 
he  would  never  have  dreamed  of  doing. 

"Can  you  lend  me  a  thousand?"  he  asked,  almost  in 

10  a  whisper. 

"Sure,"  answered  O'Brien,  thumping  down  a  ple- 
thoric°  sack  by  the  side  of  Matthewson's.  "Though 
it's  little  faith  I'm  having,  John,  that  the  beast  can  do 
the  trick." 

15  The  Eldorado  emptied  its  occupants  into  the  street 
to  see  the  test.  The  tables  were  deserted,  and  the 
dealers  and  gamekeepers  came  forth  to  see  the  outcome 
of  the  wager  and  to  lay  odds.°  Several  hundred  men, 
furred  and  mittened,  banked  around  the  sled  within 

20  easy  distance.  Matthewson's  sled,  loaded  with  a 
thousand  pounds  of  flour,  had  been  standing  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  and  in  the  intense  cold  (it  was  sixty 
below  zero)  the  runners  had  frozen  fast  to  the  hard- 
packed  snow.     Men  offered  odds  of  two  to  one  that 

25  Buck  could  not  budge  the  sled.  A  quibble°  arose 
concerning  the  phrase  "break  out."  O'Brien  con- 
tended it  was  Thornton's  privilege  to  knock  the  run- 
ners loose,  leaving  Buck  to  "break  it  out"  from  a 
dead  standstill.     Matthewson  insisted  that  the  phrase 

30  included  breaking  the  runners  from  the  frozen  grip 


FOR   THE  LOVE  OF  A   MAN  97 

of  the  snow.  A  majority  of  the  men  who  had  wit- 
nessed the  making  of  the  bet  decided  in  his  favor, 
whereat  the  odds  went  up  to  three  to  one  against 
Buck. 

There  were  no  takers.  Not  a  man  believed  him  5 
capable  of  the  feat.  Thornton  had  been  hurried 
into  the  wager,  heavy  with  doubt;  and  now  that  he 
looked  at  the  sled  itself,  the  concrete  fact,  with  the 
regular  team  of  ten  dogs  curled  up  in  the  snow  be- 
fore it,  the  more  impossible  the  task  appeared.  Mat-iO 
thewson  waxed  jubilant. 

"Three  to  one!"  he  proclaimed.  "I'll  lay  you 
another  thousand  at  that  figure,  Thornton.  What 
d'ye  say?" 

Thornton's  doubt  was  strong  in  his  face,  but  his  15 
fighting  spirit  was  aroused  —  the  fighting  spirit  that 
soars  above  odds,  fails  to  recognize  the  impossible, 
and  is  deaf  to  all  save  the  clamor  for  battle.  He  called 
Hans  and  Pete  to  him.  Their  sacks  Vv^ere  slim,  and 
with  his  own  the  three  partners  could  rake  together  20 
only  two  hundred  dollars.  In  the  ebb  of  their  fortunes, 
this  sum  was  their  total  capital;  yet  they  laid  it  un- 
hesitatingly against  Matthewson's  six  hundred. 

The  team  of  ten  dogs  was  unhitched,  and  Buck, 
with  his  own  harness,  was  put  into  the  sled.  He  25 
had  caught  the  contagion  of  the  excitement,  and  he 
felt  that  in  some  way  he  must  do  a  great  thing  for 
John  Thornton.  Murmurs  of  admiration  at  his  splen- 
did appearance  went  up.  He  was  in  perfect  condition, 
without  an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh,  and  the  one  hun-  30 


98  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

dred  and  fifty  pounds  that  he  weighed  were  so  many 
pounds  of  grit  and  viriHty.  His  furry  coat  shone 
with  the  sheen  of  silk.  Dov»rn  the  neck  and  across  the 
shouklers,  his  mane,  in  repose  as  it  was,  half  bristled 
5  and  seemed  to  lift  with  every  movement,  as  though  ex- 
cess of  vigor  made  each  particular  hair  alive  and  active. 
The  great  breast  and  heavy  fore  legs  were  no  more  than 
in  proportion  with  the  rest  of  the  body,  where  the 
muscles   showed   in   tight   rolls   underneath   the   skin. 

10  Men  felt  these  muscles  and  proclaimed  them  hard 
as  iron,  and  the  odds  went  down  to  two  to  one. 

"Gad,  sir!  Gad,  sir!"  stuttered  a  member  of  the 
latest  dynasty,  a  king  of  the  Skookum  Benches.  "I 
offer  you  eight  hundred  for  him,  sir,  before  the  test, 

15 sir;   eight  hundred  just  as  he  stands." 

Thornton  shook  his  head  and  stepped  to  Buck's  side.' 
"You  must  stand  off  from  him,"  Matthewson  pro- 
tested.    "Free  play  and  plenty  of  room." 

The  crowd  fell  silent ;  only  could  be  heard  the  voices 

20  of  the  gamblers  vainly  offering  two  to  one.     Every- 
body acknowledged  Buck  a   magnificent  animal,  but 
twenty  fifty-pound  sacks  of  flour  bulked  too  large  in 
their  eyes  for  them  to  loosen  their  pouch-strings. 
Thornton  knelt  down  by  Buck's   side.      He   took 

25  his  head  in  his  two  hands  and  rested  cheek  on  cheek. 
He  did  not  playfully  shake  him,  as  was  his  wont,  or 
murmur  soft  love  curses;  but  he  whispered  in  his 
ear.  "As  you  love  me.  Buck.  As  you  love  me," 
was  what  he  whispered.     Buck  whined  with  suppressed 

.30  eagerness. 


FOB    THE  LOVE  OF  A   MAN  99 

The  crowd  was  watching  curiously.  The  affair 
was  growing  mysterious.  It  seemed  Hke  a  con  jura- 
tion.°  As  Thornton  got  to  his  feet,  Buck  seized  his 
mittened  hand  between  his  jaws,  pressing  it  with  his 
teeth  and  releasing  slowly,  half-reluctantly.  It  was  5 
the  answer,  in  terms,  not  of  speech,  but  of  love.  Thorn- 
ton stepped  well  back. 

"  Now,  Buck,"  he  said. 

Buck  tightened  the  traces,  then  slacked  them  for 
a  matter  of  several  inches.     It  was  the  way  he  hadio 
learned. 

*'  Gee ! "  Thornton's  voice  rang  out,  sharp  in  the 
tense  silence. 

Buck  swung  to  the  right,  ending  the  movement  in 
a  plunge  that  took  up  the  slack  and  with  a  sudden  jerk  15 
arrested    his    one    hundred    and    fifty    pounds.     The 
load  quivered,   and  from  under  the  runners  arose  a 
crisp  crackling. 

"  Haw  !"  Thornton  commanded. 

Buck  duplicated  the  manoeuvre,  this  time  to  the  20 
left.  The  crackling  turned  into  a  snapping,  the  sled 
pivoting  and  the  runners  slipping  and  grating  several 
inches  to  the  side.  The  sled  was  broken  out.  Men 
were  holding  their  breaths,  intensely  unconscious  of 
the  fact.  25 

"Now,  Mush!" 

Thornton's  command  cracked  out  like  a  pistol- 
shot.  Buck  threw  himself  forward,  tightening  the 
traces  with  a  jarring  lunge.  His  whole  body  was 
gathered   compactly   together  in   the  tremendous  ef-30 


100  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

fort,  the  muscles  writhing  and  knotting  Uke  live 
things  under  the  silky  fur.  His  great  chest  was 
low  to  the  ground,  his  head  forAvard  and  down,  while 
his  feet  were  flying  like  mad,  the  claws  scarring  the 
shard-packed  snow  in  parallel  grooves.  The  sled 
swayed  and  trembled,  half-started  forward.  One  of 
his  feet  slipped,  and  one  man  groaned  aloud.  Then 
the  sled  lurched  ahead  in  what  appeared  a  rapid  suc- 
cession of  jerks,  though  it  never  really  came  to  a  dead 

10  stop  again  .  .  .  half  an  inch  ...  an  inch  .  .  .  two 
inches.  .  .  .  The  jerks  perceptibly  diminished;  as 
the  sled  gained  momentum,  he  caught  them  up,  till 
it  was  moving  steadily  along. 

Men  gasped    and  began  to  breathe  again,  unaware 

15  that  for  a  moment  they  had  ceased  to  breathe.  Thorn- 
ton was  running  behind,  encouraging  Buck  with  short, 
cheery  words.  The  distance  had  been  measured  off, 
and  as  he  neared  the  pile  of  firewood  which  marked  the 
end  of  the  hundred  yards,  a  cheer  began  to  grow  and 

20  grow,  which  burst  into  a  roar  as  he  passed  the  firewood 
and  halted  at  command.  Every  man  was  tearing  him- 
self loose,  even  Matthewson.  Hats  and  mittens  were 
flying  in  the  air.  Men  were  shaking  hands,  it  did  not 
matter  with  whom,   and  bubbling  over  in  a  general 

25  incoherent  babel. ° 

But  Thornton  fell  on  his  knees  beside  Buck.  Head 
was  against  head,  and  he  was  shaking  him  back  and 
forth.  Those  who  hurried  up  heard  him  cursing  Buck, 
and  he  cursed  him  long  and  fervently,  and  softly  and 

30  lovingly. 


FOR    THE  LOVE  OF  A  MAN  101 

"Gad,  sir!  Gad,  sir!"  spluttered  the  Skookum 
Bench  king.  "I'll  give  you  a  thousand  for  him,  sir, 
a  thousand,  sir  —  twelve  hundred,  sir." 

Thornton    rose   to    his    feet.     His    eyes    were  wet. 
The   tears  were  streaming  frankly  down  his   cheeks.  5 
"Sir,"   he   said   to   the   Skookum   Bench   king,    "no, 
sir.     You  can  go  to  hell,  sir.     It's  the  best  I  can  do 
for  you,  sir." 

Buck  seized  Thornton's  hand  in  his  teeth.     Thorn- 
ton shook  him  back  and  forth.     As  though  animated  10 
by  a  common  impulse,  the  onlookers  drew  back  to  a 
respectful   distance;    nor  were   they   again   indiscreet 
enough  to  interrupt. 


VII 

THE   SOUNDING   OF   THE   CALL 

When  Buck  earned  sixteen  hundred  dollars  in  five 
minutes  for  John  Thornton,  he  made  it  possible  for  his 
master  to  pay  off  certain  debts  and  to  journey  with 
his  partners  into  the  East  after  a  fabled  lost  mine,° 
5  the  history  of  which  was  as  old  as  the  history  of  the 
country.  INIany  men  had  sought  it;  few  had  found 
it;  and  more  than  a  few  there  were  who  had  never 
returned  from  the  quest.  This  lost  mine  was  steeped 
in  tragedy  and  shrouded  in  mystery.     No  one  knew 'of 

10  the  first  man.  The  oldest  tradition^  stopped  before  it 
got  back  to  him.  From  the  beginning  there  had  been 
an  ancient  and  ramshackle^  cabin.  Dying  men  had 
sworn  to  it,  and  to  the  mine  the  site  of  which  it  marked, 
clinching  their  testimony  with  nuggets  that  were  un- 

15  like  any  known  grade  of  gold  in  the  Northland. 

But  no  living  man  had  looted  this  treasure  house, 
and  the  dead  w^ere  dead;  wherefore  John  Thornton 
and  Pete  and  Hans,  with  Buck  and  half  a  dozen  other 
dogs,   faced   into   the   East  on   an  unknown   trail   to 

20  achieve  where  men  and  dogs  as  good  as  themselves  had 
failed.     They  sledded  seventy  miles   up   the  Yukon, 
swung  to  the  left  into  the  Stewart  River,  passed  the 
102 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  103 

Mayo  and  the  McQuestion,  and  held  on  until  the  Stew- 
art itself  became  a  streamlet,  threading  the  upstand- 
ing peaks  which  marked  the  backbone  of  the  continent. 

John  Thornton  asked  little  of  man  or  nature.  He 
was  unafraid  of  the  wild.  With  a  handful  of  salt  and  5 
a  rifle  he  could  plunge  into  the  wilderness  and  fare 
wherever  he  pleased  and  as  long  as  he  pleased.  Being 
in  no  haste,  Indian  fashion,  he  hunted  his  dinner  in 
the  course  of  the  day's  travel ;  and  if  he  failed  to  find 
it,  like  the  Indians,  he  kept  on  traveUing,  secure  in  lO 
the  knowledge  that  sooner  or  later  he  would  come  to 
it.  So,  on  this  great  journey  into  the  East,  straight 
meat  was  the  bill  of  fare,  ammunition  and  tools  prin- 
cipally made  up  the  load  on  the  sled,  and  the  time- 
card  was  drawn  upon  the  limitless  future.°  15 

To  Buck  it  was  boundless  delight,  this  hunting, 
fishing,  and  indefinite  wandering  through  strange 
places.  For  weeks  at  a  time  they  would  hold  on 
steadily,  day  after  day ;  and  for  weeks  upon  end  they 
would  camp,  here  and  there,  the  dogs  loafing  and  the  20 
men  burning  holes  through  frozen  muck°  and  gravel 
and  washing  countless  pans  of  dirt°  by  the  heat  of  the 
fire.  Sometimes  they  went  hungry,  sometimes  they 
feasted  riotously,  all  according  to  the  abundance  of 
game  and  the  fortune  of  hunting.  Summer  arrived,  25 
and  dogs  and  men  packed°  on  their  backs,  rafted  across 
blue  mountain  lakes,  and  descended  or  ascended  un- 
known rivers  in  slender  boats  whipsawed°  from  the 
standing  forest. 

The  months  came  and  went,  and  back  and  forth  30 


104  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

they  twisted  through  the  uncharted  vastness,  where 
no  men  were  and  yet  where  men  had  been  if  the  Lost 
Cabin  were  true.  They  went  across  divides"  in  sum- 
mer bHzzards,  shivered  under  the  midnight  sun  on 
5  naked  mountains  between  the  timber  Une°  and  the 
eternal  snows,  dropped  into  summer  valleys  amid 
swarming  gnats  and  flies,  and  in  the  shadows  of  glaciers 
picked  strawberries  and  flowers  as  ripe  and  fair  as  any 
the  Southland  could  boast.     In  the  fall  of  the  year  they 

10  penetrated  a  weird  lake  country,  sad  and  silent,  where 
wild-fowl  had  been,  but  where  then  there  was  no  life 
nor  sign  of  life  —  only  the  blowing  of  chill  winds,  the 
forming  of  ice  in  sheltered  places,  and  the  melancholy 
rippling  of  waves  on  lonely  beaches. 

15  And  through  another  winter  they  wandered  on  the 
obliterated  trails  of  men  who  had  gone  before.  Once, 
they  came  upon  a  path  blazed  tlu-ough  the  forest,  an 
ancient  path,  and  the  Lost  Cabin  seemed  very  near. 
But  the  path  began  nowhere  and  ended  nowhere,  and 

20  it  remained  mystery,  as  the  man  who  made  it  and  the 
reason  he  made  it  remained  mystery.  Another  time 
they  chanced  upon  the  time-graven  wreckage  of  a 
hunting  lodge,  and  amid  the  shreds  of  rotted  blankets 
John    Thornton    found    a    long-barrelled    flint-lock.° 

25  He  knew  it  for  a  Hudson  Bay  Company"  gun  of  the 
young  days  in  the  Northwest,  when  such  a  gun  was 
worth  its  height  in  beaver  skins  packed  flat.  And 
that  was  all  —  no  hint  as  to  the  man  who  in  an  early 
day  had  reared  the  lodge  and  left  the  gun  among  the 

30  blanliets. 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  105 

Spring  came  on  once  more,  and  at  the  end  of  all 
their  wandering  they  found,  not  the  Lost  Cabin,  but 
a  shallow  placer°  in  a  broad  valley  where  the  gold 
showed  like  yellow  butter  across  the  bottom  of  the 
washing-pan. °  They  sought  no  farther.  Each  day  5 
they  worked  earned  them  thousands  of  dollars  in  clean 
dust  and  nuggets,  and  they  worked  every  day.  The 
gold  was  sacked  in  moose-hide  bags,  fifty  pounds  to 
the  bag,  and  piled  like  so  much  firewood  outside  the 
spruce-bough  lodge,  hike  giants  they  toiled,  days  10 
flashing  on  the  heels  of  days  like  dreams  as  they  heaped 
the  treasure  up. 

There  was  nothing  for  the  dogs  to  do,  save  the 
haiding  in  of  meat  now  and  again  that  Thornton  killed, 
and  Buck  spent  long  hours  musing  by  the  fire.  The  15 
vision  of  the  short-legged  hairy  man  came  to  him  more 
frequently,  now  that  there  was  little  work  to  be  done ; 
and  often,  blinking  by  the  fire,  Buck  wandered  with 
him  in  that  other  world  v/hich  he  remembered. 

The  salient  thing°  of  this  other  world  seemed  fear.  20 
When  he  watched  the  hairy  man  sleeping  by  the  fire, 
head  between  his  knees  and  hands  clasped  above. 
Buck  saw  that  he  slept  restlessly,  with  many  starts 
and  awakenings,  at  which  times  he  would  peer  fear- 
fully into  the  darkness  and  fling  more  wood  upon  the  25 
fire.  Did  they  w^alk  by  the  beach  of  a  sea,  where  the 
hairy  man  gathered  shell-fish  and  ate  them  as  he 
gathered,  it  was  with  eyes  that  roved  everywhere  for 
hidden  danger  and  with  legs  prepared  to  run  like  the 
wind  at  its  first  appearance.     Through  the  forest  they  30 


106  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

crept  noiselessly,  Buck  at  the  hairy  man's  heels;  and 
they  were  alert  and  vigilant,  the  pair  of  them,  ears 
twitching  and  moving  and  nostrils  quivering,  for  the 
man  heard  and  smelled  as  keenly  as  Buck.  The 
5  hairy  man  could  spring  up  into  the  trees  and  travel 
ahead  as  fast  as  on  the  ground,  swinging  by  the  arms 
from  limb  to  limb,  sometimes  a  dozen  feet  apart,  let- 
ting go  and  catching,  never  falling,  never  missing  his 
grip.     In  fact,  he  seemed  as  much  at  home  among  the 

10 trees  as  on  the  ground;  and  Buck  had  memories  of 
nights  of  vigil  spent  beneath  trees  wherein  the  hairy 
man  roosted,  holding  on  tightly  as  he  slept. 

And  closely  akin  to  the  visions  of  the  hairy  man  was 
the  call  still  sounding  in  the  depths  of  the  forest.     It 

15  filled  him  with  a  great  unrest  and  strange  desires. 
It  caused  him  to  feel  a  vague,  sweet  gladness,  and  he 
was  aware  of  wild  yearnings  and  stirrings  for  he  knew 
not  what.  Sometimes  he  pursued  the  call  into  the 
forest,  looking  for  it  as  though  it  were  a  tangible  thing, 

20  barking  softly  or  defiantly,  as  the  mood  might  dictate. 
He  would  thrust  his  nose  into  the  cool  wood  moss,  or 
into  the  black  soil  where  long  grasses  grew,  and  snort 
with  joy  at  the  fat  earth  smells;  or  he  would  crouch 
for  hours,  as  if  in  concealment,  behind  fungus-covered 

25  trunks  of  fallen  trees,  wide-eyed  and  wide-eared  to  all 
that  moved  and  sounded  about  him.  It  might  be, 
lying  thus,  that  he  hoped  to  surprise  this  call  he  could 
not  understand.  But  he  did  not  know  why  he  did 
these  various  things.     He  was  impelled  to  do  them, 

30  and  did  not  reason  about  them  at  all. 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  107 

Irresistible  impulses  seized  him.  He  would  be  ly- 
ing in  camp,  dozing  lazily  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  when 
suddenly  his  head  would  lift  and  his  ears  cock  up,  in- 
tent and  listening,  and  he  would  spring  to  his  feet  and 
dash  away,  and  on  and  on,  for  hours,  through  the  5 
forest  aisles  and  across  the  open  spaces  where  the  nig- 
gerheads°  bunched.  He  loved  to  run  down  dry  water- 
courses, and  to  creep  and  spy  upon  the  bird  life  in  the 
woods.  For  a  day  at  a  time  he  would  lie  in  the  under- 
brush where  he  could  watch  the  partridges  drumming  10 
and  strutting  up  and  down.  But  especially  he  loved  to 
run  in  the  dim  twilight  of  the  summer  midnights,  listen- 
ing to  the  subdued  and  sleepy  murmurs  of  the  forest, 
reading  signs  and  sounds  as  man  may  read  a  book,  and 
seeking  for  the  mysterious  something,  that  called  • — 15 
called,  waking  or  sleeping,  at  all  times,  for  him  to  come. 

One  night  he  sprang  from  sleep  with  a  start,  eager- 
eyed,  nostrils  quivering  and  scenting,  his  mane  bris- 
tling in  recurrent  waves. °  From  the  forest  came  the 
call  (or  one  note  of  it,  for  the  call  was  many  noted),  20 
distinct  and  definite  as  never  before,  —  a  long-drawn 
howl,  like,  yet  unlike,  any  noise  made  by  husky  dog. 
And  he  knew  it,  in  the  old  familiar  way,  as  a  sound 
heard  before.  He  sprang  through  the  sleeping  camp 
and  in  swift  silence  dashed  through  the  woods.  As  25 
he  drew  closer  to  the  cry  he  went  more  slowly,  with 
caution  in  everj^  movement,  till  he  came  to  an  open 
place  among  the  trees,  and  looking  out  saw,  erect  on 
haunches,  with  nose  pointed  to  the  sky,  a  long,  lean, 
timber  wolf.  30 


108  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

He  had  made  no  noise,  yet  it  ceased  from  its  howling 
and  tried  to  sense  his  presence.  Buck  stalked  into  the 
open,  half  crouching,  body  gathered  compactly  to- 
gether, tail  straight  and  stiff,  feet  falling  with  un- 
6  wonted  care.  Every  movement  advertised  commingled 
threatening  and  overture"  of  friendliness.  It  was 
the  menacing  truce°  that  marks  the  meeting  of  wild 
beasts  that  prey.  But  the  wolf  fled  at  sight  of  him. 
He  followed,  with  wild  leapings,  in  a  frenzy  to  overtake. 

10  He  ran  him  into  a  blind  channel,  in  the  bed  of  the 
creek,  where  a  timber  jam  barred  the  way.  The 
wolf  whirled  about,  pivoting  on  his  hind  legs  after  the 
fashion  of  Joe  and  of  all  cornered  husky  dogs,  snarling 
and  bristling,  clipping  his  teeth  together  in  a  continuous 

15  and  rapid  succession  of  snaps. 

Buck  did  not  attack,  but  circled  him  about  and 
hedged  him  in  with  friendly  advances.  The  wolf 
was  suspicious  and  afraid ;  for  Buck  made  three  of 
him  in  weight,  while  his  head  barely  reached  Buck's 

20  shoulder.  Watching  his  chance,  he  darted  away,  and 
the  chase  was  resumed.  Time  and  again  he  was  cor- 
nered, and  the  thing  repeated,  though  he  was  in  poor 
condition  or  Buck  could  not  so  easily  have  overtaken 
him.     He  would  run  till  Buck's  head  was  even  with 

25  his  flank,  when  he  would  whirl  around  at  bay,  only  to 
dash  away  again  at  the  first  opportunity. 

But  in  the  end  Buck's  pertinacity"  was  rewarded; 
for  the  wolf,  finding  that  no  harm  was  intended,  finally 
sniffed  noses  with  him.     Then  they  became  friendly, 

30  and  played  about  in  the  nervous,  half-coy°  way  with 


THE  SOUNDING  OF  THE  CALL  109 

which  fierce  beasts  belie  their  fierceness:  After  some 
time  of  this  the  wolf  started  off  at  an  easy  lope  in  a 
manner  that  plainly  showed  he  was  going  somewhere. 
He  made  it  clear  to  Buck  that  he  was  to  come,  and 
they  ran  side  by  side  .through  the  sombre  twilight,  5 
straight  up  the  creek  bed,  into  the  gorge  from  which 
it  issued,  and  across  the  bleak  divide  where  it  took  its 
rise. 

On  the  opposite  slope  of  the  watershed"  they  came 
down  into  a  level  country  where  were  great  stretches  10 
of  forest  and  many  streams,  and  through  these  great 
stretches  they  ran  steadily,  hour  after  hour,  the  sun 
rising  higher  and  the  day  growing  warmer.     Buck  was 
wildly  glad.     He  knew  he  was  at  last  answering  the 
call,  running  by  the  side  of  his  wood  brother  toward  15 
the    place    from    where    the    call    surely    came.     Old 
memories  were  comin'g  upon   him  fast,   and  he  was 
stirring  to  them  as  of  old  he  stirred  to  the  realities  of 
which   they   were   the   shadows.     He   had   done   this 
thing  before,  somewhere  in  that  other  and  dimly  re- 20 
membered   world,   and  he  was   doing  it  again,    now, 
running  free  in  the  open,  the  unpacked  earth  underfoot, 
the  wide  sky  overhead. 

They  stopped  by  a  running  stream  to  drink,  and, 
stopping,  Buck  remembered  John  Thornton.  He  sat  25 
down.  The  wolf  started  on  toward  the  place  from 
where  the  call  surely  came,  then  returned  to  him 
sniffing  noses  and  making  actions  as  though  to  encour- 
age him.  But  Buck  turned  about  and  started  slowly 
on  the  back  track.     For  the  better  part  of  an  hour  the  30 


110  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

wild  brother  ran  by  his  side,  whining  softly.  Then 
he  sat  down,  pointed  his  nose  upward,  and  howled. 
It  was  a  mournful  howl,  and  as  Buck  held  steadily  on 
his  way  he  heard  it  grow  faint  and  fainter  until  it  was 

5  lost  in  the  distance. 

John  Thornton  was  eating  dinner  when  Buck  dashed 
into  camp  and  sprang  upon  him  in  a  frenzy  of  affection, 
overturning  him,  scrambling  upon  him,  licking  his 
face,    biting   his   hand  —  "  playing    the   general    tom- 

10  fool,"  as  John  Thornton  characterized  it,  the  while  he 
shook  Buck  back  and  forth  and  cursed  him  lovingly. 

For  two  days  and  nights  Buck  never  left  camp, 
never  let  Thornton  out  of  his  sight.  He  followed  him 
about  at  his  work,  watched  him  while  he  ate,  saw  him 

15  into  his  blankets  at  night  and  out  of  them  in  the  morn- 
ing. But  after  two  days  the  call  in  the  forest  began  to 
sound  more  imperiously"  than  "ever.  Buck's  restless- 
ness came  back  on  him,  and  he  was  haunted  by  recol- 
lections of  the  wild  brother,  and  of  the  smiling  land 

20  beyond  the  divide  and  the  run  side  by  side  through  the 
wide  forest  stretches.  Once  again  he  took  to  wander- 
ing in  the  woods,  but  the  wild  brother  came  no  more ; 
and  though  he  listened  through  long  vigils,  the  mourn- 
ful howl  was  never  raised. 

25  He  began  to  sleep  out  at  night,  staying  away  from 
camp  for  days  at  a  time ;  and  once  he  crossed  the 
divide  at  the  head  of  the  creek  and  went  dow^n  into  the 
land  of  timber  and  streams.  There  he  wandered  for 
a  week,  seeking  vainly  for  fresh  sign  of  the  wild  brother, 

30  killing  his  meat   as  he  travelled  and  travelling   with 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  111 

the  long,  easy  lope  that  seems  never  to  tire.  He  fished 
for  salmon  in  a  broad  stream  that  emptied  somewhere 
into  the  sea,  and  by  this  stream  he  killed  a  large  black 
bear,  blinded  by  the  mosquitoes  while  likewise  fishing, 
and  raging  through  the  forest  helpless  and  terrible.  5 
Even  so,  it  was  a  hard  fight,  and  it  aroused  the  last 
latent  remnants  of  Buck's  ferocity.  And  two  days 
later,  when  he  returned  to  his  kill  and  found  a  dozen 
wolverenes  quarrelling  over  the  spoil,  he  scattered  them 
like  chaff ;  and  those  that  fled  left  two  behind  who  10 
would  quarrel  no  more. 

The  blood-longing  became  stronger  than  ever  be- 
fore. He  was  a  killer,  a  thing  that  preyed,  living  on 
the  things  that  lived,  unaided,  alone,  by  virtue  of  his 
own  strength  and  prowess,  surviving  triumphantly  in  15 
a  hostile  environment  where  only  the  strong  survived. 
Because  of  all  this  he  became  possessed  of  a  great  pride 
in  himself,  which  communicated  itself  like  a  contagion 
to  his  physical  being.  It  advertised  itself  in  all  his 
movements,  was  apparent  in  the  play  of  every  muscle,  20 
spoke  plainly  as  speech  in  the  w^ay  he  carried  himself, 
and  made  his  glorious  furry  coat  if  anything  more 
glorious.  But  for  the  stray  brown  on  his  muzzle  and 
above  his  eyes,  and  for  the  splash  of  w^hite  hair  that 
ran  midmost  down  his  chest,  he  might  well  have  been  25 
mistaken  for  a  gigantic  wolf,  larger  than  the  largest  of 
the  breed.  From  his  St.  Bernard  father  he  had  in- 
herited size  and  weight,  but  it  was  his  shepherd  mother 
who  had  given  shape  to  that  size  and  weight.  His 
muzzle  was  the  long  wolf  muzzle,  save  that  it  was  larger  30 


112  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

than  the  muzzle  of  any  wolf ;   and  his  head,  somewhat 
broader,  was  the  wolf  head  on  a  massive  scale. 

His  cunning  was  wolf  cunning,  and  wild  cunning; 
his  intelligence,  shepherd  intelligence  and  St.  Bernard 
5  intelligence ;  and  all  this,  plus  an  experience  gained 
in  the  fiercest  of  schools,  made  him  as  formidable  a 
creature  as  any  that  roamed  the  wild.  A  carnivorous 
animal,  living  on  a  straight  meat  diet,  he  was  in  full 
flower,  at  the  high  tide  of  his  life,  overspilling  with 

10  vigor  and  virility.  When  Thornton  passed  a  caressing 
hand  along  his  back,  a  snapping  and  crackling  followed 
the  hand,  each  hair  discharging  its  pent°  magnetism 
at  the  contact.  Every  part,  brain  and  body,  nerve 
tissue  and  fibre,  was  kej'ed  to  the  most  exquisite  pitch ; 

15  and  between  all  the  parts  there  was  a  perfect 
equilibrium^  or  adjustment.  To  sights  and  sounds 
and  events  which  required  action,  he  responded  with 
lightning-like  rapidity.  Quickly  as  a  husky  dog  could 
leap  to  defend  from  attack  or  to  attack,  he  could  leap 

20  twice  as  quickly.  He  saw  the  movement,  or  heard 
sound,  and  responded  in  less  time  than  another  dog 
required  to  compass  the  mere  seeing  or  hearing.  He 
perceived  and  determined  and  responded  in  the  same  in- 
stant.     In  point  of  fact  the  three  actions  of  perceiving, 

25  determining,  and  responding  were  sequentiaP  ;  but  so 
infinitesimal^  were  the  intervals  of  time  between  them 
that  the}'  appeared  simultaneous.  His  muscles  were 
surcharged  with  vitality,  and  snapped  into  pla}'  sharply, 
like  steel  springs.     Life  streamed  through  him  in  splen- 

30  did  flood,  glad  and  rampant,  until  it  seemed  that  it 


THE  SOUNDING  OF  THE  CALL  113 

would  burst  him  asunder  in  sheer  ecstasy  and  pour 
forth  generous!}'  over  the  world. 

"Never  was  there  such  a  dog,"  said  John  Thornton 
one  day,  as  the  partners  watched  Buck  marching  out 
of  camp.  5 

"When  he  was  made,  the  mould  was  broke,"  said 
Pete. 

"Py  Jingo!     I  t'ink  so  mineself,"  Hans  affirmed. 

They  saw  him  marching  out  of  camp,  but  they  did 
not  see  the  instant  and  terrible  transformation  which  lo 
took  place  as  soon  as  he  was  within  the  secrecy  of  the 
forest.     He  no  longer  marched.     At  once  he  became 
a  thing  of  the  wild,  stealing  along  softly,  cat-footed,  a 
passing  shadow  that  appeared  and  disappeared  among 
the   shadows.     He   knew  how   to   take   advantage   of  15 
every  cover,  to  crawl  on  his  bell}'  like  a  snake,  and  like 
a  snake  to  leap  and  strike.     He  could  take  a  ptarmigan° 
from  its  nest,  kill  a  rabbit  as  it  slept,  and  snap  in  mid 
air  the  little  chipmunks  fleeing  a  second  too  late  for 
the  trees.     Fish,  in  open  pools,  were  not  too  quick  for  20 
him;    nor  were  the  beaver,  mending  their  dams,  too 
wary.     He  killed  to  eat,  not  from  wantonness ;   but  he 
preferred  to  eat  what  he  killed  himself.     So  a  lurking 
himior  ran  through  his  deeds,  and  it  was  his  delight 
to  steal  upon  the  squirrels,  and,  when  he  all  but  had  25 
them,  to  let  them  go,  chattering  in  mortal  fear  to  the 
tree-tops. 

As  the  fall  of  the  year  came  on,  the  moose  appeared 
in  greater  abundance,  moving  slowly  down  to  meet  the 
winter  in  the  lower  and  less  rigorous  valleys.     Buck  30 


114  THE  CALL   OF  THE    WILD 

had  already  dragged  down  a  stray  part-grown  calf; 
but  he  wished  strongly  for  larger  and  more  formidable 
quarry,  and  he  came  upon  it  one  day  on  the  divide  at 
the  head  of  the  creek.  A  band  of  twenty  moose  had 
5  crossed  o^'er  from  the  land  of  streams  and  timber, 
and  chief  among  them  was  a  great  bull.  He  was  in  a 
savage  temper,  and,  standing  over  six  feet  from  the 
ground,  was  as  formidable  an  antagonist  as  even  Buck 
could   desire.     Back   and   forth   the   bull    tossed    his 

10  great  palmated°  antlers,  branching  to  fourteen  points 
and  embracing  seven  feet  within  the  tips.  His  small 
eyes  burned  with  a  vicious  and  bitter  light,  while  he 
roared  with  fury  at  sight  of  Buck. 

From   the    bull's   side,   just   forward   of   the   flank. 

15  protruded  a  feathered  arrow-end,  w^hich  accounted  for 
his  savageness.  Guided  by  that  instinct  which  came 
from  the  old  hunting  days  of  the  primordial  world, 
Buck  proceeded  to  cut  the  bull  out  from  the  herd. 
It  was  no  slight  task.     He  would  bark  and  dance  about 

20  in  front  of  the  bull,  just  out  of  reach  of  the  great 
antlers  and  of  the  terrible  splay  hoofs°  which  could 
have  stamped  his  life  out  with  a  single  blow.  Unable 
to  turn  his  back  on  the  fanged  danger  and  go  on,  the 
bull  would  be  driven  into  paroxysms"   of  rage.     At 

25  such  moments  he  charged  Buck,  who  retreated  craftily, 
luring  him  on  by  a  simulated"  inability  to  escape. 
But  when  he  was  thus  separated  from  his  fellows,  two 
or  three  of  the  younger  bulls  would  charge  back  upon 
Buck  and  enable  the  wounded  bull  to  rejoin  the  herd. 

30     There  is  a  patience  of  the  wild  —  dogged,  tireless, 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  115 

persistent  as  life  itself  —  that  holds  motionless  for 
endless  hours  the  spider  in  its  web,  the  snake  in  its 
coils,  the  panther  in  its  ambuscade ;  this  patience  be- 
longs peculiarly  to  life  when  it  hunts  its  living  food; 
and  it  belonged  to  Buck  as  he  clung  to  the  flank  of  5 
the  herd,  retarding  its  march,  irritating  the  young  bulls, 
worrying  the  cows  with  their  half -grown  calves,  and 
driving  the  wounded  bull  mad  with  helpless  rage.  For 
half  a  day  this  continued.  Buck  multiplied  himself, 
attacking  from  all  sides,  en^'eloping  the  herd  in  a  whirl- 10 
wind  of  menace,  cutting  out  his  victim  as .  fast  as  it 
could  rejoin  its  mates,  wearing  out  the  patience  of 
creatures  preyed  upon,  which  is  a  lesser  patience  than 
that  of  creatures  preying. 

As  the  day  wore  along  and  the  sun  dropped  to  its  15 
bed  in  the  northwest   (the  darkness  had  come  back 
and  the  fall  nights  were  six  hours  long),  the  young 
bulls  retraced  their  steps  more  and  more  reluctantly 
to  the  aid  of  their  beset°  leader.     The  down-coming 
winter  was  harrying  them  on  to  the  lower  levels,  and  20 
it  seemed  they  could  ne\'er  shake  off  this  tireless  crea- 
ture that  held  them  back.     Besides,  it  was  not  the  life 
of  the  herd,  or  of  the  young  bulls,  that  was  threat- 
ened.    The  life  of  only  one  member  was  demanded, 
which  was  a  remoter  interest  than  their  lives,  and  in  25 
the  end  they  were  content  to  pay  the  toll.° 

As  twilight  fell  the  old  bull  stood  with  lowered 
head,  watching  his  mates  — •  the  cows  he  had  known, 
the  calves  he  had  fathered,  the  bulls  he  had  mastered 
—  as  they  shambled  on  at  a  rapid  pace  through  the  30 


116  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

fading  light.  He  could  not  follow,  for  before  his  nose 
leaped  the  merciless  fanged  terror  that  would  not  let 
him  go.  Three  hundredweight  more  than  half  a  ton 
he  weighed;    he  had  lived  a  long,  strong  life,  full  of 

5  fight  and  struggle,  and  at  the  end  he  faced  death  at 
the  teeth  of  a  creature  whose  head  did  not  reach  be- 
yond his  great  knuckled  knees. 

From  then  on,  night  and  day,  Buck  never  left  his 
prey,  never  gave  it  a  moment's  rest,  never  permitted 

10  it  to  browse  the  leaves  of  trees  or  the  shoots  of  young 
birch  and  willow.  Nor  did  he  give  the  wounded  bull 
opportunity  to  slake  his  burning  thirst  in  the  slender 
trickling  streams  they  crossed.  Often,  in  desperation, 
he  burst  into  long  stretches  of  flight.     At  such  times 

15  Buck  did  not  attempt  to  stay  him,  but  loped  easily 
at  his  heels,  satisfied  with  the  way  the  game  was 
played,  lying  down  when  the  moose  stood  still,  attack- 
ing him  fiercely  when  he  strove  to  eat  or  drink. 

The  great  head  drooped  more  and  more  under  its 

20  tree  of  horns,  and  the  shambling  trot  grew  weaker 
and  weaker.  He  took  to  standing  for  long  periods, 
with  nose  to  the  ground  and  dejected  ears  dropped 
hmply;  and  Buck  found  more  time  in  which  to  get 
water  for  himself  and  in  which  to  rest.     At  such  mo- 

25  ments,  panting  with  red  lolling  tongue  and  with  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  big  bull,  it  appeared  to  Buck  that  a 
change  was  coming  over  the  face  of  things.  He  could 
feel  a  new  stir  in  the  land.  As  the  moose  were  coming 
into   the   land,   other   kinds   of  life  were   coming   in. 

30  Forest  and  stream  and  air  seemed  palpitant"  with  their 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  117 

presence.  The  news  of  it  was  borne  in  upon  him,  not 
by  sight,  or  sound,  or  smell,  but  by  some  other  and 
subtler  sense.  He  heard  nothing,  saw  nothing,  yet 
knew  that  the  land  was  somehow  different;  that 
through  it  strange  things  were  afoot  and  ranging ;  5 
and  he  resolved  to  investigate  after  he  had  finished  the 
business  in  hand. 

At  last,  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  day,  he  pulled  the 
great  moose  down.  For  a  day  and  a  night  he  remained 
by  the  kill,  eating  and  sleeping,  turn  and  turn  about,  lo 
Then,  rested,  refreshed  and  strong,  he  turned  his 
face  toward  camp  and  John  Thornton.  He  broke 
into  the  long  easy  lope,  and  went  on,  hour  after  hour, 
never  at  loss  for  the  tangled  way,  heading  straight  home 
through  strange  country  with  a  certitude  of  direction  15 
that  put  man  and  his  magnetic  needle  to  shame. 

As  he  held  on  he  became  more  and  more  conscious 
of  the  new  stir  in  the  land.  There  was  life  abroad  in 
it  different  from  the  life  which  had  been  there  through- 
out the  sum^mer.  No  longer  was  this  fact  borne  in  20 
upon  him  in  some  subtle,  mysterious  way.  The  birds 
talked  of  it,  the  squirrels  chattered  about  it,  the  very 
breeze  whispered  of  it.  Several  times  he  stopped 
and  drew  in  the  fresh  morning  air  in  great  sniffs,  read- 
ing a  message  which  made  him  leap  on  with  greater  25 
speed.  He  was  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  calamity 
happening,  if  it  v/ere  not  calamity  already  happened; 
and  as  he  crossed  the  last  watershed  and  dropped 
down  into  the  valley  toward  camp,  he  proceeded  with 
greater  caution.  30 


118  THE   CALL    OF  THE   WILD 

Three  miles  away  he  came  upon  a  fresh  trail  that 
sent  his  neck  hair  rippling  and  bristling.  It  led  straight 
toward  camp  and  John  Thornton.  Buck  hurried  on, 
swiftly  and  stealthily,  every  nerve  straining  and  tense, 
5  alert  to  the  multitudinous  details  which  told  a  story  — 
all  but  the  end.  His  nose  gave  him  a  varj'ing  descrip- 
tion of  the  passage  of  the  life  on  the  heels  of  which  he 
was  travelling.  He  remarked  the  pregnant  silence°  of 
the  forest.     The  bird  life  had  flitted.     The  squirrels 

10  were  in  hiding.  One  only  he  saw,  —  a  sleek  gray  fel- 
low, flattened  against  a  gray  dead  limb  so  that  he  seemed 
a  part  of  it,  a  woody  excrescence  upon  the  wood  itself. 
As  Buck  slid  along  with  the  obscureness  of  a  gliding 
shadow,  his  nose  was  jerked  suddenly  to  the  side  as 

15  though  a  positive  force  had  gripped  and  pulled  it.  He 
followed  the  new  scent  into  a  thicket  and  found  Nig. 
He  was  lying  on  his  side,  dead  where  he  had  dragged 
himself,  an  arrow  protruding,  head  and  feathers,  from 
either  side  of  his  body. 

20  A  hundred  yards  farther  on.  Buck  came  upon  one 
of  the  sled-dogs  Thornton  had  bought  in  Dawson. 
This  dog  was  thrashing  about  in  a  death-struggle, 
directly  on  the  trail,  and  Buck  passed  around  him 
without   stopping.     From   the   camp   came   the   faint 

25  sound  of  many  voices,  rising  and  falling  in  a  sing-song 
chant.  Bellying  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  clearing 
he  found  Hans,  lying  on  his  face,  feathered  with  ar- 
rows like  a  porcupine.  At  the  same  instant  Buck  peered 
out  where  the  spruce-bough  lodge  had  been  and  saw 

30  what  made  his  hair  leap  straight  up  on  his  neck  and 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  '  119 

shoulders.  A  gust  of  overpowering  rage  swept  over 
him.  He  did  not  know  that  he  growled,  but  he  growled 
aloud  with  a  terrible  ferocity.  For  the  last  time  in 
his  life  he  allowed  passion  to  usurp  cunning  and  reason, 
and  it  was  because  of  his  great  love  for  John  Thornton  5 
that  he  lost  his  head. 

The  Yeehats°  were  dancing  about  the  wreckage  of 
the  spruce-bough  lodge  when  they  heard  a  fearful 
roaring  and  saw  rushing  upon  them  an  animal  the 
like  of  which  they  had  never  seen  before.  It  was  10 
Buck,  a  live  hurricane  of  fury,  hurling  himself  upon 
them  in  a  frenzy  to  destroy.  He  sprang  at  the  fore- 
most man  (it  was  the  chief  of  the  Yeehats),  ripping 
the  throat  wide  open  till  the  rent  jugular  spouted  a 
fountain  of  blood.  He  did  not  pause  to  worry  the  15 
victim,  but  ripped  in  passing,  with  the  next  bound 
tearing  wide  the  throat  of  a  second  man.  There  was 
no  withstanding  him.  He  plunged  about  in  their 
very  midst,  tearing,  rending,  destroying,  in  constant 
and  terrific  motion  which  defied  the  arrows  they  dis-20 
charged  at  him.  In  fact,  so  inconceivably  rapid  were 
his  movements,  and  so  closely  were  the  Indians  tangled 
together,  that  they  shot  one  another  with  the  arrows ; 
and  one  young  hunter,  hurling  a  spear  at  Buck  in 
mid  air,  drove  it  through  the  chest  of  another  hunter  25 
with  such  force  that  the  point  broke  through  the  skin 
of  the  back  and  stood  out  beyond.  Then  a  panic 
seized  the  Yeehats,  and  they  fled  in  terror  to  the  woods, 
proclaiming  as  they  fled  the  advent  of  the  Evil  Spirit. 

x\nd  truly  Buck  was  the  Fiend  incarnate,  raging  at  30 


120  THE  CALL   OF  THE   WILD 

their  heels  and  dragging  them  down  like  deer  as  they 
raced  through  the  trees.  It  was  a  fateful  day  for  the 
Yeehats.  They  scattered  far  and  wide  over  the  coun- 
try, and  it  was  not  till  a  week  later  that  the  last  of  the 

5  survivors  gathered  together  in  a  lower  valley  and 
counted  their  losses.  x-Vs  for  Buck,  wearying  of  the 
pursuit,  he  returned  to  the  desolated  camp.  He  found 
Pete  where  he  had  been  killed  in  his  blankets  in  the 
first  moment  of  surprise.     Thornton's  desperate  strug- 

lOgle  was  fresh-written  on  the  earth,  and  Buck  scented 
every  detail  of  it  down  to  the  edge  of  a  deep  pool. 
By  the  edge,  head  and  fore  feet  in  the  water,  lay 
Skeet,  faithful  to  the  last.  The  pool  itself,  muddy 
and  discolored  from  the  sluice  boxes,°  effectually  hid 

15 what  it  contained,  and  it  contained  John  Thornton; 
for  Buck  followed  his  trace  into  the  water,  from  which 
no  trace  led  away. 

All  day  Buck  brooded  by  the  pool  or  roamed  rest- 
lessly about  the  camp.     Death,  as  a  cessation  of  move- 

20  ment,  as  a  passing  out  and  away  from  the  lives  of  the 
living,  he  knew,  and  he  knew  John  Thornton  was 
dead.  It  left  a  great  void  in  him,  somewhat  akin  to 
hunger,  but  a  void  which  ached  and  ached,  and  which 
food  could  not  fill.     At  times,  and  when  he  paused  to 

25  contemplate  the  carcasses  of  the  Yeehats,  he  forgot 
the  pain  of  it;  a,nd  at  such  times  he  was  aware  of  a 
great  pride  in  himself,  —  a  pride  greater  than  any  he 
had  yet  experienced.  He  had  killed  man,  the  noblest 
game  of  all,  and  he  had  killed  in  the  face  of  the  law  of 

30  club  and  fang.     He  sniffed  the  bodies  curiously.     They 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  121 

had  died  so  easily.  It  was  harder  to  kill  a  husky  dog 
than  them.  They  were  no  match  at  all,  were  it  not  for 
their  arrows  and  speai^  and  clubs.  Thenceforward 
he  would  be  unafraid  of  them  except  when  they  bore 
in  their  hands  their  arrows,  spears,  and  clubs.  5 

Night  came  on,  and  a  full  moon  rose  high  over  the 
trees  into  the  sky,  lighting  the  land  till  it  lay  bathed  in 
ghostly  day.  And  with  the  coming  of  the  night,  brood- 
ing and  mourning  by  the  pool.  Buck  became  alive  to 
a  stirring  of  the  new  life  in  the  forest  other  than  that  lO 
which  the  Yeehats  had  made.  He  stood  up,  listening 
and  scenting.  From  far  away  drifted  a  faint,  sharp 
yelp,  followed  by  a  chorus  of  similar  sharp  yelps.  As 
the  moments  passed  the  yelps  grew  closer  and  louder. 
Again  Buck  knew  them  as  things  heard  in  that  other  15 
world  which  persisted  in  his  memory.  He  walked  to 
the  centre  of  the  open  space  and  listened.  It  was  the 
call,  the  many-noted  call,  sounding  more  luringly° 
and  compelling  than  ever  before.  And  as  never  be- 
fore, he  was  ready  to  obey.  John  Thornton  was  dead.  20 
The  last  tie  was  broken.  Man  and  the  claims  of  man 
no  longer  bound  him. 

Hunting  their  living  meat,  as  the  Yeehats  were 
hunting  it,  on  the  flanks  of  the  migrating  moose, 
the  wolf  pack  had  at  last  crossed  over  from  the  land  25 
of  streams  and  timber  and  invaded  Buck's  valley. 
Into  the  clearing  where  the  moonlight  streamed,  they 
poured  in  a  silvery  flood;  and  in  the  centre  of  the 
clearing  stood  Buck,  motionless  as  a  statue,  waiting 
their  coming.     They  were  awed,  so  still  and  large  he  30 


122  THE  CALL   OF  THE    WILD 

stood,  and  a  moment's  pause  fell,  till  the  boldest  one 
leaped  straight  for  him.  Like  a  flash  Buck  struck, 
breaking  the  neck.  Then  he  stood,  without  move- 
ment, as  before,  the  stricken  wolf  rolling  in  agony  be- 
5 hind  him.  Three  others  tried  it  in  sharp  succession; 
and  one  after  the  other  they  drew  back,  streaming  blood 
from  slashed  throats  or  shoulders. 

This  was  sufflcient  to  fling  the  whole  pack  forward, 
pell-mell,  crowded  together,  blocked  and  confused  by 

10  its  eagerness  to  pull  down  the  prey.  Buck's  marvel- 
lous quickness  and  agility  stood  him  in  good  stead. 
Pivoting  on  his  hind  legs,  and  snapping  and  gashing, 
he  was  everywhere  at  once,  presenting  a  front  which 
was  apparently  unbroken  so  swiftly  did  he  whirl  and 

15  guard  from  side  to  side.  But  to  prevent  them  from 
getting  behind  him,  he  was  forced  back,  down  past 
the  pool  and  into  the  creek  bed,  till  he  brought  up 
against  a  high  gravel  bank.  He  worked  along  to  a 
right  angle  in  the  bank  which  the  men  had  made  in 

20  the  course  of  mining,  and  in  this  angle  he  came  to  bay, 
protected  on  three  sides  and  with  nothing  to  do  but 
face  the  front. 

And  so  well  did  he  face  it,  tliat  at  the  end  of  half 
an    hour    the    wolves    drew    back    discomfited.     The 

25  tongues  of  all  were  out  and  lolling,  the  white  fangs 
showing  cruelly  white  in  the  moonlight.  Some  were 
lying  down  with  heads  raised  and  ears  pricked  for- 
ward ;  others  stood  on  their  feet,  watching  him ;  and 
still  others  were  lapping  water  from  the  pool.     One 

30  wolf,  long  and  lean  and  gray,  advanced  cautiously,  in 


THE  SOUNDING   OF  THE  CALL  123 

a  friendly  manner,  and  Buck  recognized  the  wild 
brother  with  whom  he  had  run  for  a  night  and  a  day. 
He  w^as  whining  softly,  and,  as  Buck  whined,  they 
touched  noses. 

Then  an  old  wolf,  gaunt  and  battle-scarred,  came  5 
forward.     Buck  writhed  his  lips  into  the  preiiminar}^ 
of  a  snarl,  but  sniffed  noses  with  him.     Whereupon  the 
old  wolf  sat  down,   pointed  nose  at  the  moon,   and 
broke  out  the  long  wolf  howl.     The  others  sat  down 
and  howled.     x\nd  now  the  call  came  to  Buck  in  un-  lo 
mistakable  accents.     He,  too,  sat  down  and  howled. 
This  over,  he  came  out  of  his  angle  and  the   pack 
crowded   around   him,   sniffing  in  half-friendly,    half- 
savage   manner.     The   leaders   lifted   the   yelp   of  the 
pack  and  sprang  away  into  the  woods.     The  wolves  15 
swung  in  behind,  yelping  in  chorus.     And  Buck  ran 
with  them,  side  by  side  with  the  wild  brother,  yelping 
as  he  ran. 

And  here  may  well  end  the  story  of  Buck.  The 
years  were  not 'many  when  the  Yeehats  noted  a  change  20 
in  the  breed  of  timber  wolves ;  for  some  were  seen  with 
splashes  of  brown  on  head  and  muzzle,  and  with  a 
rift  of  white  centring  down  the  chest.  But  more  re- 
markable than  this,  the  Yeehats  tell  of  a  Ghost  Dog 
that  runs  at  the  head  of  the  pack.  They  are  afraid  of  25 
this  Ghost  Dog,  for  it  has  cunning  greater  than  they, 
stealing  from  their  camps  in  fierce  winters,  robbing 
their  traps,  slaying  their  dogs,  and  defying  their 
bravest  hunters. 


124  th:bj  call  of  the  wild 

Nay,  the  tale  grows  worse.  Hunters  there  are  who 
fail  to  return  to  the  camp,  and  hunters  there  have  been 
whom  then'  tribesmen  found  with  throats  slashed 
cruelly  open  and  with  wolfprints  about  them  in  the 
5  snow  greater  than  the  prints  of  any  wolf.  Each  fall, 
when  the  Yeehats  follow  the  movement  of  the  moose, 
there  is  a  certain  valley  which  they  never  enter.  iVnd 
women  there  are  who  become  sad  when  the  vv^ord  goes 
over  the  fire  of  how  the  Evil  Spirit  came  to  select  that 

10  valley  for  an  abiding-place. 

In  the  summers  there  is  one  visitor,  however,  to  that 
valley,  of  which  the  Yeehats  do  not  know.  It  is  a 
great,  gloriously  coated  wolf,  like,  and  yet  unlike,  all 
other    wolves.     He    crosses    alone    from    the    smiling 

15  timber  land  and  comes  down  into  an  open  space  among 
the  trees.  Here  a  yellow  stream  flows  from  rotted 
moose-hide  sacks  and  sinks  into  the  ground,  with 
long  grasses  growing  through  it  and  vegetable  mould 
overrunning  it  and  hiding  its   yellow  from  the  sun; 

20  and  here  he  muses  for  a  time,  howling  once,  long  and 
mournfully,  ere  he  departs. 

But  he  is  not  always  alone.  When  the  long  winter 
nights  come  on  and  the  wolves  follow  their  m.eat  into 
the  lower  valleys,  he  may  be  seen  running  at  the  head 

25  of  the  pack  through  the  pale  moonlight  or  glimmering 
borealis,  leaping  gigantic  above  his  fellows,  his  great 
throat  a-bellow  as  he  sings  a  song  of  the  younger  world, 
which  is  the  song  of  the  pack. 


NOTES 

1 :  3.     tidewater  dog.     Dog  living  on  the  Pacific  coast. 

1 :  7.  booming  the  find.  Advertising  the  discovery  of 
the  gold  in  an  exaggerated  manner  in  order  to  stimulate 
travel  on  their  lines. 

2:14.  demesne  (pronounced,  de  men').  A  landed 
estate. 

4 :  2.  strike.  Discovery  of  a  rich  deposit  of  precious 
metal. 

4 :  9.  system.  The  particular  plan  of  making  bets  by 
means  of  which  confirmed  gamblers,  ignorant  of  the  laws 
of  chance,  believe  they  can  overcome  the  odds  that  are 
always  against  them  in  any  professional  gambling  game. 

6 :  17.     squarehead.     Stupid  fellow. 

8 :  26.     metamorphosed.     Changed. 

11 :  3.  break  cayuses.  Train  Indian  ponies  for  the 
saddle. 

11 :  10.     soliloquized.     Said  to  himseK. 

11 :  29.  primitive  law.  The  law  as  at  first  developed ; 
the  law  as  administered  in  earliest  times. 

12 :  10.     conciliated.     Won  over  by  gentle  behavior. 

13  :  21.     swarthy.     Of  dark  complexion. 

13  :  22.  French- Canadian  half-breed.  A  person  one  of 
whose  parents  is  French-Canadian ;   the  other,  Indian. 

13  :  30.     'tween  decks.     Between  decks  ;   down  below. 

14 :  2.  Spitzbergen.  An  island  of  the  Arctic  Ocean 
about  four  hundred  miles  north  of  Norway. 

14 :  23.  bucked.  Acted  like  a  bucking  horse,  which 
by  plunging  jumps  on  stiff  fore  legs  tries  to  throw  its  rider. 

14 :  23.     possessed.     Occupied  by  an  evil  spirit. 
125 


126  NOTES 

16 :  16.  vicarious  experience.  Experience  gained  not 
from  participation  in  the  event  but  by  noticing  what 
happened  to  another  dog. 

17 :  5.  huskies.  Native  sled  dogs.  See  Introduction, 
"  The  Dog  in  the  Northland." 

17  :  25.     swart.     Swarthy  ;   of  dark  complexion. 

18 :  16.  wheeler.  That  dog  of  a  team  which  is 
harnessed  next  to  the  sled.  See  Introduction,  "  The  Dog 
in  the  Northland." 

19 : 8.  introspective.  Thinking  about  himself ;  not 
turning  his  mind  to  matters  outside  of  himself,  malig- 
nant.    Malicious  ;    harboring  ill-will. 

19 :  12.  appeasingly.  In  a  manner  intended  to  allay 
anger. 

19 :  19.  Incarnation  of  belligerent  fear.  An  example 
in  the  flesh  of  a  fear  so  great  that  it  drove  the  dog  to  fight 
for  his  life. 

20 :  19.     ignominiously.     Disgracefully. 

20  :  23.     disconsolate.     Sorrowful ;    sad  ;   dejected. 

21 :  15.     placatingly.     In  a  way  intended  to  dispel  anger. 

22 :  2.  harking  back  .  .  .  forbears.  Returning  .  .  . 
in  imagination  to  the  lives  of  his  ancestors. 

22 :  3.  unduly  civilized.  More  civilized  than  was  good 
for  him  —  to  Jack  London's  way  of  thinking. 

22  :  18.     courier.     Rapidly  traveUing  messenger. 

26 :  13.  fundamental  and  primitive  code.  A  body  of 
laws  of  first  importance  for  the  preservation  of  the  life  of 
a  dog. 

26 :  16.  decivilization.  The  remo^dng  from  his  dog 
mind  of  the  habits  developed  in  the  domesticated  dog. 

26 :  18.  ability  to  flee  .  .  .  consideration.  Abihty  to 
ignore  aU  ideas  of  right  and  A\Tong  in  his  actions. 

26 :  24.  retrogression.  Mo\dng  back  from  the  condi- 
tion of  body  of  the  civilized  dog  to  that  of  the  -uild  dog. 
See  Introduction,  "  The  Central  Idea  of  the  Book." 

26 :  27.     He      achieved  .  .  .   economy.     He      acquired 


NOTES  127 

ability  not  only  to  meet  the  hardships  of  the  world  with- 
out, but  also  to  withstand  the  rough  usage  to  which  his 
organs  of  digestion  were  subjected. 

27 :  13.  to  leeward.  On  the  side  opposite  to  that 
struck  by  the  wdnd. 

28 :  1.  cadences.  Succession  of  notes  in  the  musical 
scale;   the  "  tune  "  howled  by  the  dogs. 

28 :  5.  puppet  thing  life  is.  Nature  casts  people  and 
events  together  as  carelessly  as  a  child  throws  down  his 
doll  here  or  there  on  the  ground. 

28 :  10.  lap  over  the  needs.  More  than  cover  the 
needs  ;  more  than  meet  the  needs. 

29 :  1.  dominant  primordial  beast.  The  desire  to  be 
the  beast  that  leads  the  pack,  as  in  the  first  days  of  the 
dog  —  the  early  days  of  the  wild  dog. 

31 :  9.  pandemonium.  A  noise  like  that  made  by  all 
the  devils  together. 

31 :  30.     slavered  fangs.     Dripping  jaws. 

36:6.  cave-dweller  or  river  man.  For  an  interesting 
and  substantially  accurate  picture  of  primitive  man,  see 
Jack  London's  "  Before  Adam." 

39 : 9.     malingerer.     Shirker. 

40 :  4.     covert.     Hidden ;    concealed. 

41 :  1.     eerie.     Weird  ;    mysterious  ;   ghostly. 

41 :  3.     aurora  borealis.     The  northern  lights. 

41 :  9.  articulate  travail  of  existence.  Vocal  expression 
of  the  burden  of  living. 

42  :  9.  insidious.  Slyly  carried  out ;  hard  to  detect. 
42 :  10.  solidarity.  Sense  of  common  responsibility. 
42 :  27.     bickered.     Indulged  in  petty  wrangling. 

43  :  27.     wraith.     A  spectre  ;   a  ghost. 

44  :  7.  ecstasy.  Exaltation  ;  strong  feeling  that  lifts 
one  beyond  himself. 

44 : 9.     paradox.     Contradiction. 

44 :  13.  caught  up  .  .  .  flame.  Carried  beyond  him- 
self by  some  great  surge  of  feeling. 


128  NOTES 

44 :  20.     womb  of  Time.     Beginnings  of  things. 
44 :  24.     rampant.     Unchecked ;      unrestrained ;      exu- 
berant. 

44 :  25.     exultantly.     In  triumph  ;   with  great  rejoicing. 
44 :  28.     supreme  moods.     Times  of  strongest  feeling. 

46  :  5.     wonted.     Customary  ;   usual. 

47:11.  instinct.  Inherited  knowledge.  See  Intro- 
duction, "The  Central-Idea  of  the  Book." 

47  :  25.     inexorable.     Unrelenting  ;    pitiless  ;    merciless. 
51 :  14.     sheepishly.     In  a  silly  manner ;    in  a  manner 

that  showed  how  fooUsh  he  felt. 

53:  28,     threw  chests.     Slang  for  "  swaggered." 

54:1.  dog-busters  and  mushers.  Dog-team  trainers 
and  dog-team  drivers. 

55 :  22.     lapsed.     Shpped  away. 

60  :  24.  yearning  toward  them.  Looking  toward  them 
with  sorrowful  longing  to  join  them. 

64:11.  callowness.  Immaturity;  lack  of  knowledge 
and  experience. 

67 :  4.     clannish.     Standing  up  for  her  family. 

69 : 4.  inexorable  elimination  of  the  superfluous. 
Merciless  discarding  of  what  was  not  needed. 

70 :  21.  Q.  E.  D.  Abbreviation  of  the  Latin,  Quod  erat 
demonstrandum,  "  which  was  to  be  proved,"  the  customary 
wording  at  the  end  of  a  geometrical  proof. 

70  :  22.  comprehensively.  "  Understandingly  "  seems 
to  be  London's  meaning. 

71 :  25.     orthodox.    Here  means  "usual,"  "  customary." 

72  :  29.     amenities.     Agreeable  manners. 

73 :  1.     glamour.     Enchantment. 

74 :  5.     be  relevant  to.     Have  any  connection  with. 

74 :  14.     chivalrously.     Gallantly  ;   courteously. 

74 :  27.  importuned.  Here  apparently  used  in  the 
sense  of  "  annoyed." 

77 :  7.  loom.  Vague  outline  or  signs  seems  to  be  the 
meaning  here. 


NOTES  129 

78:11.  innocuously.  Harmlessly.  It  here  seems  to 
mean  "  uselessly." 

80  :  6.     impending  doom.     Here  "  coming  disaster." 

80 :  23.  inarticulate.  Not  in  sounds  of  words  of  ordi- 
nary speech. 

80  :  27.  wistfully.  Pensively ;  with  melancholy  thought- 
fulness. 

81 :  10.  chaotic  abandonment  of  hysteria.  Unre- 
strained giving  way  to  hysterics. 

86  :  14.     transient.     Passing  out  of  his  life  ;   temporary. 

87 :  18.  lessoned.  Learned.  An  unusual  verb  in  an 
unusual  sense. 

88 :  12.  peremptorily.  Commandingly ;  in  a  way 
that  demands  obedience. 

88  :  20.  imperiously.  In  a  commanding  manner ;  in 
a  way  not  to  be  disobeyed. 

89 :  4.  same  large  type.  Same  kind  of  simple,  big- 
hearted  man. 

89 :  13.  grub-staked  themselves.  Bought  themselves 
food  and  equipment  for  a  prospecting  tour  in  search  of 
gold. 

90  :  9.     tenderfoot.     A  new-comer,  a  "  greenhorn." 

90:29.  "miners'  meeting."  A  trial  jury  selected 
from  those  who  happened  to  be  present. 

91 :  6.  Poling-boat.  A  boat  propelled  and  guided  by 
pushing  with  poles  on  the  river  bottom. 

91:8.     snubbing.     Checking  the  progress  of. 

94:9.  being  violently  propelled  .  .  .Pete.  Crude  first 
aid  for  a  man  nearly  drowned. 

94:21.  totem-pole.  A  tall  piece  of  timber  fantas- 
tically carved  with  the  "  totem  "  or  token  of  a  particular 
family  or  elan.  Those  of  some  western  Indian  tribes  of 
North  America  are  brilliantly  colored.  In  a  sense  the 
totem-pole  has  religious  significance.  The  totem-pole 
'Was  not  erected  to  commemorate  some  great  deed,  as 
London  seems  to  think. 


130  NOTES 

95 :  17.  Thornton's  bluff.  Bluff,  slang  for  an  act  or  a 
statement  of  a  boastful  sort  intended  to  deceive  or  frighten 
by  pretended  resources  or  power. 

96 :  6.  Mastodon  King.  One  who  had  grown  wealthy 
from  the  riches  of  the  Mastodon  mine. 

96 :  12.     plethoric.     Crammed  full, 

96 :  18.     lay  odds.     Offer  betting  odds. 

96 :  25.  quibble.  Argument  on  a  mere  trifle ;  petty 
discussion. 

99  :  3.  It  seemed  like  a  conjuration.  Thornton  seemed 
to  be  using  magic  words  by  which  to  secure  supernatural 
aid. 

100 :  25.  incoherent  babel.  Loud  talking  by  so  many 
at  once  that  a  listener  could  understand  nothing. 

102 :  4.  fabled  lost  mine.  A  mine  of  which  stories 
were  told  but  the  location  of  which  was  no  longer  known. 

102 :  10.  tradition.  Story  handed  down  from  man  to 
man  for  long  periods. 

102:12.  ramshackle.  Tumble-down;  in  a  state  of 
decay. 

103  :  15.  time  card  was  drawn  upon  the  limitless  future. 
They  had  planned  to  take  as  long  a  time  as  might  be 
needed  to  succeed  in  their  search. 

103:21.  Muck.  A  mass  of  decomposed  vegetable 
matter  forming  a  top-soil. 

103 :  22.  washing  countless  pans  of  dirt.  Testing  for 
the  presence  of  gold.     See  Introduction,  "  Placer-Mining." 

103  :  26.  packed  on  their  backs.  Men  and  dogs  carried 
ammunition,  tools,  camp  equipment,  and  food  in  packs  on 
their  backs. 

103  :  28.     whipsawed.     Cut  with  a  saw  of  narrow  blade. 
104 :  3.     divides.     Ridges  or  conspicuous  elevations  are 

here  meant. 

104  :  5.  timber-line.  The  elevation  above  the  sea  level 
at  which  timber  ceases  to  grow. 

104  :  24.     flint-lock.     An  old-time  muzzle-loading  gun, 


NOTES  131 

the  powder  in  which  was  ignited  by  a  spark  produced  by 
the  striking  on  a  piece  of  steel  of  a  fragment  of  flint  set  in 
the  hammer. 

104  :  25.  Hudson  Bay  Company.  An  English  corpora- 
tion nearly  two  and  a  half  centuries  old  that  does  an 
immense  business  in  the  Dominion  of  Canada.  The  com- 
pany collects  furs,  sells  general  merchandise,  and  outfits 
hunters  and  trappers.  In  out-of-the-way  places  its  agents 
administer  the  laws. 

105:3,5.  Placer,  washing-pan.  See  Introduction, 
"  Placer-Mining." 

105 :  20.  salient  thing.  The  thing  that  forced  itself 
on  the  attention ;    the  prominent  thing. 

107 :  7.  niggerheads.  This  word  generally  means 
rounded  boulders,  or  rocks. 

107:19.  .recurrent  waves.  Waves  that  occur  re- 
peatedly. 

108 :  6.     overture.     Proposal. 

108  :  7.  menacing  truce.  Outward  signs  of  friendliness 
carrying  with  them  a  threat  of  ^dolence. 

108  :  27.     pertinacity.     Dogged  perseverance. 
108:30.     half-coy.     "  Coy  "  means  bashful ;    shy. 

109  :  9.  watershed.  The  line  of  high  ground  separat- 
ing the  water  flowing  into  two  different  rivers  or  river 
basins. 

110  :  17.  imperiously.  Commandingly  ;  in  a  way  that 
demanded  obedience. 

pent.     Shut  in. 

equilibrium.     Balance. 

were  sequential.     Followed  one  another. 

infinitesimal.     Exceedingly  small. 

ptarmigan.     A  bird  of  the  grouse  family. 

palmated.     Like  an  open  palm  of  the  hand ; 
resembling  a  hand  open  with  the  fingers  mdely  separated. 
114  :  21.     splay  hoofs.     Broad,  flat  hoofs. 
114 :  24.     paroxysms.     Sudden  outbursts  ;  fits. 


112 

12 

112 

16 

112 

25 

112 

26 

113 

17 

114 

10 

132  NOTES 

114 :  26.     simulated.     Pretended. 

115 :  19.     beset.     Set  upon ;   attacked. 

115 :  26.  pay  the  toll.  Pay  the  tax  on  the  herd  in- 
volved in  the  loss  of  the  wounded  moose ;   stand  the  loss. 

116 :  30.     palpitant.     Throbbing. 

118 :  8.     pregnant  silence.     Silence  filled  Tvdth  meaning. 

119  :  7.     Yeehats.     A  native  tribe. 

120:14.  sluice  boxes.  See  Introduction,  "  Placer-Min- 
ing. 

121:  18.     Luringly.      Enticingly;  in  a  winning  way. 


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